


Home of the Brave

by MonocerosRex



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kid Fic, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Undercover, writing post-tws fic here in 2018 like the trash i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-02 16:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15800052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonocerosRex/pseuds/MonocerosRex
Summary: It was Bucky, standing in a pool of his own blood, one shoulder propped against the doorframe as if he could barely stand. A little girl covered in dirt and blood clutched his right arm, leaves caught in her mane of springy black curls. A tiny baby was carefully cradled in his left, black streaks of grime standing out against its china-pale skin“I need your help.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have been clucky since I finished puberty. Growing up I'd unwind from high school drama by going on mummy blogs. I'm honestly shocked it took me this long to write a kid fic. Please ignore the fact that I am four years late to this particular party and enjoy my bullshit.

Steve had been staring at the ceiling in his darkened bedroom for several hours when the sharp knock on his front door rousted him out of bed. A glance at the clock told him it was 3:48am. Tugging on a pair of sweats over his underwear Steve hurried through his unlit apartment trying not to examine the relief he felt too closely. His mind flashed through several possibilities, most pretty dire, the least likely being the hardest to suppress.

But not even that came close to the reality.

It was Bucky, standing in a pool of his own blood, one shoulder propped against the doorframe as if he could barely stand. A little girl covered in dirt and blood clutched his right arm, leaves caught in her mane of springy black curls. A tiny baby was carefully cradled in his left, black streaks of grime standing out against its china-pale skin 

“I need your help.”

Jerking away from the doorframe Steve pushed away his shock, forcing himself into mission mode.

“Injuries?” He asked brusquely as he ushered the three inside, heading straight for the bathroom and its arsenal of medical supplies.

“Three gunshot wounds, broken wrist,” Bucky reported from the living room, aware of Steve’s enhanced hearing.

“And the children?”

“Fine.”

“Is there anyone coming after you?” Steve asked, returning to find Bucky collapsed on the couch, the baby still tucked in his metal arm and the girl curled up against his side watching Steve warily.

“Yes. I lost them, and I doubt this is where they’d look for me, but,” Bucky shrugged, though it looked like it cost him. “It’s HYDRA.”

Which meant resources and unholy luck. Not a problem for right that moment, though.

“Can you hold the baby safely?” Steve asked the child, knocking everything off the coffee table and tipping out the first aid kit.

“Yes,” she croaked, staring at him distrustfully.

Bucky nodded to her, carefully passing the infant into her tiny arms.

“I need to sit there,” he told her, trying to summon his Captain America demeanor and knowing he was failing. Cap was good at reassuring kids, but Steve was too terrified his friend was about to bleed out on his couch. The girl slipped silently down off the couch to sit cross-legged at Bucky’s feet, baby carefully held in her lap. Steve didn’t bother to point out the armchair behind her.

Bucky was only half-conscious as Steve stripped him out of his tac vest. He clearly couldn’t move his arms enough to get out of his ruined t-shirt, so Steve just ripped it off like it was tissue paper.

“Through and through?”

“Bottom two,” Bucky croaked. He’d obviously been shot in the back. Steve blinked away the image of him curled around the children and got to work stitching up the exit wounds as fast as he could.

“If you were a normal person I’d leave the bullet in there until I was sure you wouldn’t bleed to death,” Steve said, and it was a question.

Bucky tipped his head side to side where it lay against the couch back. “‘M body’d push it out.”

Steve’s mouth twisted. “That’s what I thought.”

For a long time there was nothing more than the sounds of four humans breathing quietly as Steve stitched Bucky up in the dark. His enhanced eyesight was more than up to the task, and he knew it was making Bucky feel safer. The little girl watched him carefully, seeming entirely unbothered by the gory scene taking place over her head. Her dark eyes glinted as she stared, thinking hard.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Steve helped Bucky sit forward so he could work on his back.

Bucky licked his pale lips. “Raided a HYDRA base,” he rasped. “Huge crew, tiny base—they were in the middle of a transfer, which is the only reason I got out.” Bucky sucked in a breath through his teeth as Steve stuck his forceps into the wound on his shoulder. “Went in for information. Found a little girl in a cage, pumped full of drugs.” Steve didn’t look away from what he was doing, but he wondered what kind of face the child was making. “Put her on my back and kept looking. There was another kid, maybe eighteen, but he just ran as soon as I let him out. No idea if he made it.” He paused for breath, exhausted. “And then—there was a, a scientist, holding a baby and surrounded by guards, trying to evacuate. I took her and ran, and I almost didn’t make it.” Bucky  twitched as Steve found the bullet. With an awful sucking sound Steve pulled it out in a bloody rush, letting Bucky lean his shoulder against his chest to stay upright. There was a pause, and for a moment Steve though Bucky had lost consciousness. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he said softly in the end, and Steve’s heart clenched at the quiet hopelessness in his voice.

“I’m glad you came here,” Steve said, voice rough. “I’ll look after you.”

Bucky closed his eyes.

Steve quickly finished dressing the wounds. “Do I need to splint your wrist?”

“No, it’s just a scaphoid fracture. It’ll heal.” Bucky sounded ancient. Steve nodded and stood, still full of adrenaline. He collected every piece of bedding in the house and a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and brought them to the living room. Bucky was speaking quietly to the girl in Russian, clinging determinedly to consciousness as Steve carefully covered him up.

Steve knew there was only one way he’d get Bucky to sleep 

Moving swiftly Steve tipped all the shirts out of his dresser drawer and carefully wedged a pillow into the bottom, carrying it out to place on the coffee table. The girl caught on quickly, laying the sleeping infant in the makeshift crib as gently as she could.

“The bed’s through there,” he told the girl, but wasn’t surprised when she shook her head and returned to Bucky’s side. Using the rest of the bedding and the seat cushion from the armchair Steve made a nest for her on the floor next to him.

Steve carried the gutted armchair to the spot with the best sightlines, setting it down as softly as he could. There was a part of him that resented his inability to switch off that kind of thinking in his own home, but right now he was thankful for it. Finally, he went to the locker that housed his modest arsenal, taking out his shield and a loaded handgun, careful to lock it behind him.

Bucky watched all this through half-lidded eyes, still terrifyingly pale, exhaustion stark in every line of his body. The little girl was curled up beside him on the floor, gripping his metal hand, dead to the world. Bucky’s expression as Steve sat down to keep watch was painfully grateful.

“What are their names?” He asked almost too quietly to be heard.

“Tanika,” Bucky sighed as his eyes fell closed at last, lifting the little girl’s hand an inch, “and May."

* * *

 

The grisly tableau—Steve had only nominally washed his hands, and both Bucky and Tanika were covered in blood—remained undisturbed for almost a full four hours before the baby woke herself up crying. Steve, whose mother had been a nurse and an active member of her parish, was honestly surprised it had taken this long.

Tanika slept through it admirably, scrunching up her tiny brow and rolling over, throwing one leg out of the blankets. Bucky’s eyes had flicked open almost before the noise began, as if it were the preparatory inhale that had woken him.

“She’s hungry,” Steve whispered. “I’ll have to go buy formula. Can you sit up?” Bucky’s flinty expression suggested he damn well _would_ sit up whether he was healed enough or not, and Steve wanted nothing more than to push him back down and demand he sleep for another three days. But they didn’t have a lot of options.

“I could call—”

“ _No._ ” Bucky’s frown was fierce, but Steve read the fear in it clear as day.

“Okay,” he acquiesced easily. If HYDRA hadn’t found them by now, they were unlikely to for a while. Handing the gun off to Bucky Steve quickly threw together a truly prodigious pile of sandwiches and set the plate on Bucky’s lap. He filled a glass of milk for the girl and handed the rest of the half-gallon to Bucky. He knew better than anyone how many calories advanced healing used up, and in the absence of rest this was the best Steve could do for him.

“Have you seen their files?” He asked softly.

Bucky shook his head. “Their charts. Numbers, birthdates, allergies.”

“Allergies?”

“Just shellfish for Tanika. She’s six, the baby’s one month.”

“One month.” Steve nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back in a half hour. She should eat something, but if she’s sleeping through this—”

“Yeah, I’ll let her rest,” Bucky said. “Hurry.”

In less than five minutes Steve was showered and out the door, racing through buying the barest of essentials. Re entering his apartment not twenty minutes later Steve was hit with the sound of cartoons turned up loud enough to be heard over the baby’s crying, with the quiet patter of Russian and clinking plates filtering through underneath. For a moment Steve was held motionless by the sound of life filling his home.

Pulling himself together Steve walked straight through to the kitchen to make a bottle, smiling at Bucky’s exasperated expression as he spoke to Tanika. She was currently working on her sandwich in front of the TV, eye bags still obvious beneath the layer of dirt 

“Are you going to make her stop?” Tanika asked warily as Steve came back in to scoop the baby out of her makeshift crib.

“That’s the idea,” he said, fitting the baby easily onto his forearm and hand. She immediately latched on to the bottle and began sucking with gusto, her pudgy fists curling in the fabric of his shirt. She had a modest amount of platinum fluff on her tiny head, and the dark blue eyes of a newborn. “You need a bath,” he told her, wiggling the pinkie of his bottle-hand into her palm just to feel her squeeze it. She was the smallest thing he’d ever touched.

When he looked up Bucky was watching him with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“So you’re Bucky’s friend,” Tanika said, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah,” Steve said, trying to look competent and non-threatening. The baby probably helped. “My name’s Steve.”

“Are you going to do experiments on us?” She stumbled over the word ‘experiments’, but it didn’t make the statement any less heartbreaking.

“No,” Steve said, couching down carefully so he wouldn’t disturb the baby. “The people who did experiments on you are my enemies, _because_ they did experiments on you. That’s a bad thing to do, and I try to be a good person.” Tanika didn’t look like she believed him. He supposed she didn’t have much occasion to trust adults. 

“Bucky said we could trust you,” she said begrudgingly after a long moment. Steve smiled, though when he snuck a look at Bucky he was expressionless. 

Once the bottle was done Steve carefully burped May while running a shallow bath and digging out a long-sleeved t-shirt.

“Okay, first thing’s first,” Steve said, handing the baby to Bucky. “You need to get clean, kiddo.”

Tanika seemed to instantly lose three inches, her shoulders drawing up around her ears. Steve froze, concerned.

“He’s run a warm bath,” Bucky told her clearly, and some of the tension went out of her immediately. Steve closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to picture how HYDRA had kept her clean.

“Yes, I’ve run you a bath. I don’t have any clothes for you, but I’ve got a washer and dryer, so if you want to wear this like a dress for an hour, you can put your own clothes back on.” Steve held the shirt out to her. “You can wash yourself?” He asked awkwardly, knowing his own mother had insisted on scrubbing his knees _herself_ at her age but not sure how he could help without terrifying her.

“Yes _,_ ” she said, somewhat suspiciously, and Steve accepted it immediately.

“Okay, good. Stick your clothes out the door once they’re off, okay?”

Tanika took the shirt from his fingers and slipped into the bathroom, moving surprisingly stealthily for a six year old. Steve heard her throw the lock.

Bucky watched this whole exchange with a tense look on his face. Steve waited until he heard the bathroom door close before he finally asked him the most important question.

“Their parents?”

“Dead.” Bucky looked away. “They’re probably dead too, legally.”

Steve sunk into the couch and rubbed his eyes. “How badly do HYDRA want them back?" 

“More than they want me,” Bucky said, and there it was. “From what I could gather, HYDRA was moving them because some sect of the government had found out, and wanted them for themselves.”

Steve stared. “Why are they so important?”

Bucky closed his eyes. “Tanika can compel you to answer any question truthfully.” Steve sucked a breath in through his teeth, instantly able to see how her life would play out if almost any corporation, organization, or government got a hold of her. Whether for evil or the ‘greater good’, she would always be a tool. “I don’t know what the baby can do,” Bucky continued, “but she was being guarded even more heavily.”

“Are they mutants? Inhuman? Experiments?”

Bucky shook his head, face pinched with frustration. “I don’t know. I could try and find that information, but it would give them a perfect way to track me down. Right now I’m relying on them assuming the Winter Soldier dumped them the first chance he got.” He pushed out a shaking breath. May had gotten the corner of his sleeve in her mouth and was studiously soaking it with drool. “Steve, what am I going to do?” He finally met Steve’s eyes, voice breaking on the final word. “I can’t look after them—I’m only barely fucking human myself right now. There’s _no_ _one_ who could be trusted if they knew their secret, but a normal carer couldn’t defend against a STRIKE team. And what about when May’s powers kick in? Or if Tanika lets something slip?” Bucky’s hand clutched painfully at his hair, the hunted look he’d worn since he’d arrived finally breaking into desperation. Bucky was a realist, and he was out of options.

Except for one. 

“So we go,” Steve said, feeling a weight he hadn’t know he was carrying suddenly lift.

Bucky glanced up, shocked. “What?”

“I’ve got money. We’ll take the kids and disappear." 

“Are you insane? You can’t just disappear, Captain America isn’t some babysitter—”

“Captain America protects people. What do you call this?” Steve felt something fizzing inside his ribcage. “I’ll take out as much as I can, buy a car and supplies. They’ll know I’ve gone, but even if they suspect I’m with you, who would ever guess about the children?”

“That isn’t—”

“We’ll need fake IDs and stuff, for the kids as well—" 

“Steve—”

“Maybe we can say May is a boy, change our profile a bit. I can grow a beard now, did you know? I bet if we let things settle we could buy a house somewhere, get Tanika in school. Do you think—”

“Steve!" 

Steve paused, momentum broken. He blinked at Bucky, took in his raw, almost hostile expression.

“Buck?”

“You’re talking about giving up being Captain America and leaving your whole life behind to go raise a couple of orphans with your dead best friend!"

Steve swallowed. Bucky had said it like he was doing something something crazy, but it was the best thing Steve had ever heard. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Exactly.”

“Lying to your neighbours every day, never speaking to your friends again.” Bucky’s voice was hard.

Steve nodded. He’d miss them, he knew, but they weren’t dying. He’d lost far more than and gained far less in his lifetime. “But I’d have you.”

Bucky looked away. “I’m not—I’m not the same. You _know_ I’m not the same. I remember hardly anything.”

“I don’t care. Nothing’s the fucking same. Bucky, you came to me. You trusted me with this. I’d give up my life _literally_ to save these kids, _any_ kid, and I almost _did_ saving you.” Bucky flinched and Steve grabbed his chin to turn his face towards his. “You know me,” he said quietly. “You know I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Bucky sucked in a broken breath and tipped towards him, resting his forehead on Steve’s shoulder. Between them the baby made an incoherent noise and kicked her feet.

Steve reached up to cup the back of his neck with a trembling hand. He hadn’t realised it last night, too busy trying to keep Bucky alive, but this was the first time he’d touched his best friend without violence since 1945.

He still smelled the same.

Steve bit his lip hard to keep the tears from falling, something expanding in his chest until it hurt to contain it, pushing painfully against his ribs.

Too soon Bucky straightened up. “Go put her laundry on,” he said roughly, turning his face away, and Steve went.

Filling the kitchen sink with warm water Steve washed the squirming baby with a soapy cloth, to her extreme displeasure. Her diaper hadn’t been soiled, which struck him as odd, but thankfully her onsie had kept most of her relatively clean. Bucky watched him clumsily replace her diaper like he was cataloging the steps for later.

Eventually Tanika returned, clean skin glowing a beautiful chestnut brown, hair reaching well past her shoulders when wet. She’d stepped into the neck of Steve’s shirt and pulled it up under her armpits, tying the arms around her waist like a sash.

She frowned prodigiously. “What?”

“What, what?” Steve asked her.

“You’re sitting there. You wanna say something,” Tanika said with certainty. Steve looked down at himself, wondering how she’d known.

“Yeah, kiddo. We wanna talk to you,” said Bucky.

Lip trembling bravely Tanika marched over to the armchair and dragged herself up into it. “You’re sending me back,” she stated, glaring at them even as her hands twisted in her dress.

“ _Never,_ ” Bucky rasped.

“We’re going to adopt you,” Steve told her, because it was basically true. Her eyes went as wide as dinner plates. She looked over at Bucky, who nodded. They got somehow wider.

“Why?” She asked him, sounding a little awed.

Steve watched Bucky dig his fingernails into his leg. He didn’t answer for a long time, visibly searching for the right words. Steve recalled what he had said about not feeling human and had to force himself not to help. “Because you’re our kid,” he said at last. Tanika’s face did something complicated, and for a moment Steve thought she was going to cry. In the end she just bit her lip and nodded.

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as simple as that. “We’re going to have to hide.” His tone was grave.

“From HYDRA?” She asked seriously.

“From everyone,” said Bucky.

Tanika paused. “Like, in a cave?” She tipped her head in confusion.

Steve surprised himself by laughing, feeling some of the weight dissipate from the room. “No, like telling people lies about who we are.”

“Oh, yeah.” She nodded. “That’s better. Cave have _bugs._ ” Steve laughed again and Tanika scrunched her face at him, annoyed.

“You know what that means, don’t you?” Bucky pressed. “You might make friends, or enemies, but you’ll never be able to tell them the truth, or HYDRA will find you.” Tanika looked down.

“I know,” she said quietly, holding her elbows. “They were—” she cut herself off, biting her lip. “I know about lying.” Tanika met their eyes, and Steve saw a core of solid steel. “I never want to go back.”

Steve stood, drawing himself up to his full, considerable height. “And I swear, Tanika, you _never_ will.”

* * *

 “Again.”

“My name is Nikki, I’m five years old, you are my Papa, and Steve is my Dad. You adopted me when I was just a baby, and now you’ve adopted Mark. We’re going on a road trip to meet Dad’s family because my grandma is very old, and she wants to meet the baby before she dies. 

Steve grinned at her, impressed. She seemed like she was having fun.

 “And what do you say if someone says ‘your dad looks a lot like Captain America’?” Bucky continued quizzing.

“‘I _know!_ ’”

“And what do you say if someone sees my arm?”

“You lost it in the war, I don’t know anything else. Don’t tell them how it can move and stuff.”

“And how did Dad and I meet.” Steve wondered if he’d ever get used to hearing that.

“Through a friend from the military, yeeeears ago.”

“And what is the number one rule?”

“Don’t use my powers, don’t mention my powers, ever ever ever.” Tanika chanted. Steve suspected it was a mantra they’d be hearing a lot of.

“And the other rules?”

“Don’t speak Russian in public, always listen to direct orders _no matter what,_ never forget HYDRA is watching.”

Bucky smiled. “Well done, Tanika.”

“Thank you Papa.”

* * *

Steve stared at the phone, wishing he missed calls more often so he’d have plausible deniability now. Tanika caught his eye and covered her mouth. Bucky was watching him, tense as a bowstring.

Steve picked up.

“Hey, Natasha,” he said, opening the fridge to give him something to focus on.

“You coming to Tony’s thing tonight?” She asked abruptly, as if she could startle him into agreeing.

“The dinner? Nat, you know me better than that."

“I know you well enough to know you need to get out more. Come, I’m inviting Danielle from legal, you’ll like her.”

“Danielle? Is she the one—you know what, I don’t even know why I’m asking, it doesn’t change anything.”

“You’re going to have to come out sometime, you know.”

“Yeah, but a formal dinner isn’t going to be it. I know you’re smart enough to pick your battles, Nat, why are you really calling.”

Natasha was silent for a long moment. “I think I have a lead on the Winter Soldier.”

Steve kicked the fridge closed to cover his shock. “I’ve heard that before.” Bucky was staring at him like he was holding a gun to his head. “You know you’ll never find him if he doesn’t want to be found." 

“Awfully complacent of you, Rogers. Are you giving up?”

“I was never after him in the first place. He knows where I am, and he knows I want to see him, but—he’s had too many choices taken away from him, Natasha. I’m not going to send the good guys hunting him, too.”

Natasha hummed. Bucky’s mouth had tightened with apprehension when Steve glanced at him, but this was an old argument. “What if I told you it was here in New York?" 

It wasn’t hard to summon up an unsteady breath. “Well, then I know I’m doing the right thing. If he’s right here and he hasn’t—hasn’t come to me, then I know he’s not ready.” Natasha was silent. That always meant she had an opinion. “Say it.”

“You know he may never be ready.”

“Of course I know that,” Steve said, surprised by how harsh it came out. “You think I don’t? But what the fuck gives me the right to drag him back into the past if he doesn’t want it? I’ll damn well burn HYDRA off the face of the earth for him, and I’ll make sure he knows he can always come to me, but I’m not going to be the one to bring him in.” He realised he’d been glaring down at his hand curled on the counter. During the silence following this pronouncement, he turned to look at Bucky. He was staring at Steve like he couldn’t understand him. It made him want to look away.

“You’re a good friend, Steve,” Natasha said at length. “I wish I had known you ten years ago.”

“You know me now,” he offered, and then flinched, because this was the last time he’d ever talk to her.

“Guess I do, Rogers. Think about Danielle, okay?” She hung up just like that, as she was wont to do.

Bucky leant back into the couch cushions and closed his eyes.

“Who was that?” Asked Tanika.

Steve smiled wistfully. “A friend.”

* * *

Steve managed to keep Bucky on rest for another two days, and that was it. In that time he’d bought a nondescript sedan for $1000, straight out of the $10,000 cash supply in his go-bag. He filled it with all his weapons and tac gear, as well as enough clothing and essentials for Bucky and himself for a long while. He drove out to New Jersey at 3am to fill the trunk with baby gear from a 24 hour Walmart, as well as car seats for both the kids, and clothing and entertainment for Tanika. It took another chunk of his cash, but three hours later the grey Ford was kitted out for an epic family road trip—though Steve suspected the hidden weapons stashed all around weren’t exactly standard.

While he ran around trying to think of every contingency Bucky and Tanika ate a stupid amount of take out and watched cartoons. Tanika was slowly relaxing into being around Steve and Bucky, asking too many questions and making Steve laugh more than he had in the previous month. Bucky answered the questions directed at him stoically, and never let his knives out of his reach. They all practiced with their new names, titles, pronouns, and Steve’s heart clenched every time Tanika called him ‘Dad’.

On the fourth day Steve dyed his hair a warm brown and tidied up his stubble so it looked intentional. He dressed Tanika and the baby in some of their new clothes while Bucky showered and changed, feeling the way he’d felt the day he stepped into the Vita-Ray machine.

“One last thing,” he said once everything was ready.

Lifting the shield one more time, Steve took a moment to look at it. It was heavy, it was so heavy, and Steve felt a little guilty at how easy it was to put down. As he brushed his fingers over its cool surface he thought of Peggy, and felt his only true twinge of regret. But then he looked over at Bucky and the girls, and thought—she would understand.

Placing it down on the counter where it couldn’t be missed, Steve tore a page from an old sketchbook on the bookshelf and grabbed a pen.

_Sorry, had to go._

_You know what would be cool? Captain America with wings._

And then he drew a quick, cartoonish doodle of Sam, wearing the stars and stripes and holding the shield, soaring across the page with a little speech bubble: ‘This is your Captain speaking!’

Taking one last look around the apartment Steve breathed in the familiar smell and turned to leave. Only, when he turned his back, he found that his home wasn’t behind him at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is gonna be like three times as long as this one by the time it's done. Thanks for sticking through that setup. 
> 
> Gonna be honest I wasn't going to post this chapter yet but I've hit a bit of a wall with this story and the one solution when this happens to me is to read comments, so if you're interested in the Actual Good Stuff in chapter 2 leave a comment and motivate a poor beleaguered writer.
> 
> PS I live in fuckn Australia so while I've done my best with locations and shit feel free to correct/enrich the things I've written bc there's only so much a few minutes of googling here and there can do to substitute _living_ in North America (I had to backspace 'nappy' while writing this at least 5000 times smh). I think I caught all the metric but let me know if it says 'kilos' in there somewhere or smth. DO YOU CALL IT A HALF-GALLON I HAVE NO IDEA.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to split chapter two so here, have an update without me needing to write any more. Sorry in advance for any aussie fuckups (I spent a lot of time of google maps for this, yo).

Their first order of business was cash. Bucky directed Steve to a small lot walking distance from the bank to park in. Carefully covering his brown hair with a cap he grabbed his licence and old SHIELD ID, using the short walk to shake his nerves and get into character as Captain America.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he greeted the young teller in the mostly empty branch. He smiled his best TV smile at her. She looked a bit dazzled.

“Good morning, sir. How may I help you?”

“Well,” Steve dumped his bank card and IDs onto the counter between them and allowing his face to grow serious, “I have a bit of an unusual request. What’s the withdrawal limit at this branch?”

“Um, one million dollars,” she told him, a little wide eyed. Steve blinked at the number. It was a lot higher than he’d expected. “Anything over 100,000 sends up a red flag in the system, though.”

Steve nodded. He’d been expecting that. “Okay. Well then, I’d like to withdraw one million dollars in hundreds, please,” he said, feeling himself break out in a cold sweat at the words. Logically he knew there was more than that in his account, but thought thought of holding that much in his hands felt like a sin.

“Certainly,” she said gamely. Steve wondered if people often withdrew that amount around here.

It took awhile for her to count it all out to him, and the longer Steve stood there exposed the tenser he became. After the longest ten minutes of his life Steve was walking back to the car with the cash in his backpack, feeling as if every eye in the world was on him. He made sure to walk confidently as usual, taking a circuitous route back to the car, and dumping his cards in a trashcan on the way.

“I’ve carried around bombs feeling less nervous than that,” Steve said as he tossed the backpack into the car. Bucky snorted.

He was leaning against the bonnet, wearing glasses and one of Steve’s dark hoodies over a white t-shirt and black jeans. Tanika was standing next to him looking sleepy, dressed in sneakers, tights, and a purple sweater. With his his left hand tucked casually in his pocket and Tanika’s held in his right, Bucky looked—just like a young parent. Steve swallowed against the unfamiliar feeling rising in his gut.

Swiftly losing the ball cap and pulling a flannel shirt on over his tee Steve slid into the passenger seat, rolling the sleeves a little and sliding on a pair of mirrored sunglasses. He twisted around to check Tanika was buckled in properly over her booster seat while Bucky stashed the cash in various places around the car and on his person.

And then they were off. The usual New York traffic set Steve’s teeth on edge, but he found some measure of comfort looking into other people’s cars and seeing hundreds of scenes exactly like theirs. Tanika seemed content to munch on goldfish crackers and stare out the window listening to Harry Potter on Steve’s ipod, and the sound of the car had put the baby to sleep. Steve left the news on quietly, though he didn’t expect to hear anything about himself for a while yet. Bucky didn’t speak and Steve found himself thankful for the quiet. For more than an hour Steve drank in the city, certain he wouldn't be seeing it again for a long time. Inevitably though they eventually burst free of its familiar confines, the interstate stretching out before them endlessly, and Steve felt a thrill overtake his sense of quiet loss. He didn’t know where they were headed, beyond south. He didn’t think Bucky did either.

They drove for the rest of the day, stopping at every rest station so Tanika could go to the bathroom. Steve had bought a bottle warmer that plugged into the cigarette lighter socket, but had to twist himself into a pretzel to feed the baby in her safety seat. Changing her diaper required stopping as well, laying his seat back and chuckling at Tanika’s creative descriptions of the smell. It didn’t bother him—nothing really smelled bad to you after you’d been to war. By the time the sun had touched the horizon Steve was performing the motions confidently. He was honestly grateful how much work there was to be done, forcing him into the present.

Bucky didn’t let him drive. He had barely spoken the entire trip. All the vulnerability he’d shown at the apartment was gone, subsumed into his mission mindset. Steve suspected this distant efficiency was the current Bucky’s natural state. He wondered what the careful humanity he’d displayed in New York had cost him.

They stopped in a town—if you could even call it that—a little after nightfall. They got a motel room, Bucky getting the baby gear together as Steve scooped up a sleeping Tanika on one hip and a curious infant in the other arm. The room was small, with two single beds, but there was just enough space for the travel cot on the floor. Steve carefully took off Tanika’s shoes as Bucky checked the room over, not bothering to make her change into her pajamas.

“I’ll take first watch,” Steve told him, forestalling his refusal with a raised hand. “You drove all day, get a couple hours of sleep, okay?” The serum meant neither of them needed as much sleep as a regular person, but it would be stupid to pass up the chance to be well rested when it was presented to them. Steve was all too aware that HYDRA could attack them at any time.

May needed to be fed every four hours, which made for a good watch clock. Steve took the first feeding, pacing around the dark room with the strangest sensation of being on a another planet. Eerie blue light filtered in through the curtains as he lay the baby back down, smiling softly as she stared at his face and grasped his fingers. She made an exited gasping sound and waved her arms, but Steve carefully smoothed his fingers through her hair over and over until her eyes slipped closed, tracing her tiny, perfect nose before getting up. He got most of the way through washing up her bottle in the motel sink before Bucky shoved him onto the bed and took the next watch. The sheets were a bit plasticky, but they were warm from Bucky’s body, and Steve found himself slipping into a deep sleep with unprecedented ease.

* * *

Their first test was the very next day. They’d pulled into a diner for lunch and Steve had just returned from the ladies’ room with a freshly changed May when he heard a terribly familiar “Um…”. Usually the thought of meeting a fan didn’t fill him with quite this much terror, however.

“Aren’t you Captain America?” A woman asked, her teenage daughter standing behind her looking embarrassed to be alive.

Steve forced himself to smile. He’d thought wearing sunglasses indoors would look suspicious, but his week-old stubble and brown hair apparently weren’t enough to prevent recognition. He took a breath to deny it, already sure it would come out stilted and unbelievable, when he was interrupted by a shriek from across the table.

“Captain _Dad!_ ” Tanika cried, ecstatic, pointing at him like it was the best thing she’d ever heard. Bucky rolled his eyes fondly and Steve felt everything in him relax. “Yeah,” he said, turning back to the woman with a completely genuine smile. “I get that a lot.”

“You aren’t?” The woman asked, surprised but obviously convinced. “I’m so sorry! You really do look a lot like him, you know.”

“ _O_ _h my god,_ ” whispered the red-faced girl behind her.

Steve shrugged and smiled crookedly. “Guess we’re long lost brothers or something,” he joked.

“Captain _Uncle_ ,” Tanika whispered theatrically, and he had to laugh.

“Must be!” The woman said with a chuckle of her own, and was finally towed away by her daughter.

Steve flopped back against his booth, grinning at a self-satisfied Tanika across the table.

“Good job,” Bucky said seriously, elbowing her in the side.

“ _Excellent_ job, Nik.” Steve responded, something warm taking up the places adrenaline had been. “What do you want as a reward?”

“An owl,” she responded immediately, and Bucky elbowed her again. His expression was still impassive, but Steve thought that he was happy.

“How about a sundae?” Steve countered, waving the waitress over. He ended up finishing it the second half himself after Tanika was full, and Steve thought it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

* * *

The days followed in that pattern for more than a week. Steve and Bucky would switch off driving, and Tanika powered through the audiobooks Steve had downloaded for her, taking the prolonged confinement like a champ. Steve tried carefully not to think about the practice she’d had.

After eight days of it, however, even Steve was beginning to feel the strain. Tanika was bored and quizzing him about hundreds of things he didn’t know the answer to, and Bucky was still worryingly reticent. Sometimes the baby would just cry for hours for no reason, and it put everyone on edge. They needed a change, and the perfect opportunity presented itself to him just four hours later.

_Blackwater Campground: cabins available!_

“Bucky, fuck it, no one is gonna look for us out here. Let’s just take a day, okay? I think we all need it.” Bucky frowned at the sign like it had insulted his mother, but he must have agreed it was remote enough because he didn’t put up a fight.

There were a few more hours of sunlight left that day, so after they got their key Steve took his time unloading their things, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight chasing away the autumn chill. Tanika was ‘helping’ Bucky check their rooms, which mostly involved jumping on all the beds. They were all sick of sitting down, so once everything was settled Steve put May into her stroller and the three of them headed down to the river.

It took Tanika about 0.2 seconds to get her shoes off and her pants rolled up, and then she was in it, shrieking about how cold it was but refusing to come out. Parking the stroller Steve decided to join her, sitting down on the bank and ignoring the wet seeping into his pants in favour of the blissful cool on his feet. Beside him Bucky started shuffling out of his own shoes.

“There’s weird _bugs!_ ” Tanika cried in horror, crouching low in the water to stare at something with a look of comical disgust.

“Nothing dangerous,” Steve told her, pretty sure it was true. Bucky slipped into the water without a splash.

She bent even closer, hands tucked fearfully against her chest, her nose almost touching the surface. Behind her Bucky had scooped up a handful of water, face as deadly as it had been sniping world leaders and battling superheroes. Steve bit his lip around his grin.

Bucky tipped it onto the back of her neck.

Tanika’s scream was so brutal Steve half expected the ranger to come crashing out of the trees to arrest them for murder. “You’re _so bad,_ Bucky! Papa! You’re the worst!” She cried, spinning around to kick water at him that didn’t land.

Steve was laughing so hard he could hardly see them. Bucky wasn’t going easy on her, pulling out all of his assassin training to avoid her furious splashes. Quick as a snake he darted in and hugged her from behind, lifting her squealing into the air.

“D-Dad! Help!” She shrieked, half-laughing as she thrashed in his arms. Bucky planted his feet and bent over backwards, dunking her hair in the water. “ _Daddy_!”

“Captain Dad can’t save you now,” Steve’s advanced hearing picked up as Bucky muttered it into Tanika’s shirt.

“Kick him in the balls!” Steve yelled through his laughter. “Your foot’s right there!”

Tanika’s flailing legs got a bit more purposeful, and Bucky quickly swung her around into a princess carry before she could connect.

“Papa put me _down!”_ She commanded through her giggles, shaking her wet hair in his face like a dog.

“Make me,” he said, and his tone was just a little off.

Tanika seemed to notice too, staying rigid but stopping her struggles so she could look at him. “How?”

“Bite me,” Bucky suggested.

“Elbows,” Steve called.

Tanika’s eyes narrowed. “As hard as I can?”

Bucky shrugged, unhindered by her negligible weight. “If you want.”

Tanika thought about it. “Will you get better?”

“Overnight,” Bucky told her, which was almost certainly true.

“Will I fall?”

“If you win.”

Tanika only paused for a moment before clocking him over the cheek with her elbow. Bucky let it land, but it didn’t move him. Tanika thrashed like a wild thing, sinking her teeth into his bicep, but he just endured.

“The eyes, Nik!” Steve called, finding himself on his feet. Still biting down Tanika threw her hand blindly into Bucky’s face, only his forewarning protecting him. He dropped her feet and put a hand in her hair, grabbing enough that it wouldn't be too painful. He tugged, but she kept in like a terrier.

“Knees, eyes,” he told her sharply, and Tanika threw a hard knee to the groin that he only blocked because he’d suggested it. She finally let go so she could throw some more elbows, panting hard around her teeth. Bucky let her go but grabbed her wrist.

“Hit his hand,” Steve instructed her, and she hammered down ineffectually. “Kick him in the nuts again!” Before she had a chance to execute the last order Bucky started dragging her. Tanika dug in her heels but soon she was being reeled in.

“Drop,” Bucky barked. “Kick my knee out.” Tanika did, falling onto her back in the shallow water without hesitation. She hammered hard kicks at the joint that missed as often as they landed, and Steve heard Bucky grunt.

He didn’t fall though, and his left hand reached out to grasp her other wrist in an attempt to pull her into his arms. “Stay loose,” he told her. “Grab my leg.” Tanika fought to wrap her hands around his knee.

“No, like a koala,” Steve corrected, unable to look away.

Tanika curled around Bucky’s leg—“Tight,” Bucky warned her—and at Steve’s instruction planted her feet and, using her hips, threw him. Bucky let himself go down.

“Run!” Steve shouted, completely caught up. Covered in mud Tanika sprinted through the water towards him, pumping her arms like a tiny Natasha. Bucky reached out to snag the back of her shirt, but slipped in the silt by chance and genuinely missed her.

“Dad!” She screeched in victory, jumping into his arms and soaking him, throwing both her fists in the air and laughing maniacally as he spun her around.

“That was incredible, Nikki!” Steve crowed, not caring a whit about the mud covering the three of them. “You did so well! Didn’t she do well, Buck?”

“She did,” Bucky replied, eyes soft as he made his way up onto the bank.

“Did I make you _bleed?_ ” Tanika demanded, turning in Steve’s arms to get a look at Bucky’s arm. Bucky lifted his sleeve to show her a dark purple ring turning red at the centre, blood seeping from the top row. Steve hissed through his teeth. “Awesome!”

“If you’re in a real fight, you should scream the whole time,” Bucky told her, wringing out his hair. “‘Help, let me go, this man is attacking me’, stuff like that. If they cover your mouth, bite them until the let go and scream some more.”

Tanika nodded, eyes fixed ravenously on Bucky. “Can we do that again?”

“That’s mandatory, sweetheart,” Bucky said, and it was surreal to hear the old Bucky coming out of this taciturn stranger—though he wasn’t a stranger anymore.

“Luckily, you have the two best fighters in the western hemisphere to train you,” Steve added, bouncing her on his hip. Tanika grinned, lit up even under the mud. “But first, baths.”

“Yes!”

* * *

Tanika took to training like a duck to water. Over the two days they stayed at the camp Steve got more bruises and bitemarks than he’d ever gotted on a mission, and when the ranger went home they practiced in the dark, letting Tanika scream as loud as she wanted. By the time Bucky decided they should move out everyone’s spirits had been reinvigorated, and the part of Steve that was used to commanding a team thought they fit together better as well.

By now Steve had been missing for two weeks, and while nothing showed on the radio Bucky assured him it was a threshold for finding someone on the run. No longer compelled to drive all day every day their lives began to feel more like a real road trip, albeit one where they changed cars every few days. They’d drive as far as they could and then take a day to explore the place they found themselves in, working their way through the weird tourist traps and local foods of the south, and eventually the west. Tanika practiced lying as voraciously as she practiced fighting. (“Nice to meet you, I’m Sasha, I’m 8.” “Captain America is _dumb,_ my dad is an _electrician._ ” “Sorry about my brother, he’s always this noisey. Do you want him? I’ll give you some of my corn dog.”) Steve became jealous of the speed with which Bucky could change a diaper. (“Are you serious? That was 16 seconds! No don’t try it without looking, you jerk, you’re—”) And Bucky took it as a personal challenge to see how many disgusting things he could eat in a day. (“If you combine seafood and ice cream I swear to god I’m not letting you back in the car.”)

The day they reached the west coast, pulling up on the side of the road so Tanika can see the ocean, Steve realised he’s the happiest he’s ever been. The golden memories of his youth—spent in a time where things were familiar and the old Bucky was always by his side—suddenly seemed morbid and pale in comparison to Tanika kicking sand into Bucky’s eyes and being tackled into the surf. Ducking his head to press his face against May’s head Steve breathed in the smell of salt and baby and let his tears soak into her hair.

* * *

 

Unfortunately, like all good things, it couldn’t last forever; one day, almost a month into their escape, they were attacked.

Steve was in the gas station paying when the clerk’s eyes went suddenly wide. Spinning around Steve saw eight men surrounding their little sedan, guns aimed into the driver’s seat, the back window already smashed as one tried to drag Tanika out.

Sprinting through the doors towards them Steve was much too far away to help as the guys on the right side of the car began to drop, the drivers’ side window shattering around Bucky’s first round. Tanika had her thighs spread, braced against the inside of the door, and was biting into the hand on her arm harder than she’d ever bit Steve. Cursing himself for not wearing a gun Steve vaulted over the hood of the car even as Bucky’s door flew open, driving into the nearest goon with a kick to the head. The idiots came to _him_ so Steve had no trouble laying out two more in an instant, the second’s neck breaking with a satisfying crunch. Steve had finally gotten a hand in the vest of the man holding Tanika when he heard the last man yell “Freeze!” with such authority Steve had to look. Through the broken window he could see the man clearly, standing on the other side of the car in the open door, pointing his M4 at May’s head.

For a moment the was silence except for May’s screams. Steve could almost hear what it would sound like if they were silenced.

“You wouldn’t,” Bucky said in a voice like gravel, but his hands were in the air. “She’s too valuable.”

“We don’t know that. That Black brat is worth a fuck of a lot, but we don’t even know what this one does. There’s a good chance it’s useless, and HYDRA would prefer one asset over none.” Steve could hear himself panting in fear, every muscle locked as if he could somehow keep the baby safe if he just didn’t _move._ The man’s finger twitched on the trigger.

Tanika–who had been _watching, dear god–_ drew in a deep breath into her belly.

“ _What is your name_?” She asked the man with the gun, and her voice resonated strangely. Steve tore his eyes unwillingly from May, some primal part of him demanding he pay attention to the girl speaking.

“Justin Leslie Singer,” the man responded jerkily, as if the answer had been ripped from his skull.

And then he collapsed.

The gun had barely dropped from his numb fingers before Bucky was firing. Steve smashed his forehead into his guy’s face, dragging him away from Tanika as soon as his fingers weakened. He left enough distance to allow Bucky to make a clean headshot, and it was over.

“Move,” Bucky ordered, slamming back into the driver’s seat and screaming out of the lot the second Tanika was clicked in.

“Help me grab the money, Nik,” Steve said, unearthing all their stashes of weapons and cash as Bucky drove like a madman into a quiet part of town.

The second they pulled up next to a car Bucky was out, popping the door and digging around for the wires under the steering wheel.

Steve dumped what he was holding into the front, going back for the baby and dismantling the whole seat with practiced efficiency, Tanika undoing her own just like they’d practiced. Only seconds later Bucky brought the car to life, so Steve jumped in the back and held the sobbing baby in her seat as they raced out of the neighbourhood, taking a bunch of nonsensical turns and finally merging into traffic. Steve held his breath for several minutes, but no one gave them a second glance. As soon as he could Bucky calmly turned into an alleyway so they could set up the seats properly and hide the guns, and then they were off again, speeding north out of the city.

It took more than an hour for Steve to come down off his adrenaline high, and then another twenty minutes to shake the urge to burst into tears. He could see Tanika holding the baby’s fist behind them, like she couldn’t believe she’d almost lost her, either.

“Where are we going, Buck?” Steve asked in a voice like sandpaper.

“The border,” he replied tersely. “But first we need identities.”

“You know someone?”

Bucky threw Steve a glance. “HYDRA did. And I’d be damn glad to pay him a friendly visit right about now,” he said, voice like a Siberian winter.

Steve smiled.

* * *

It took them two days of hard driving to reach Bucky’s contact. The first day Steve tried to take a turn but Bucky refused, only agreeing to stop to sleep because of Tanika. Steve thought privately that this was Bucky coping. He’d barely looked at any of them, retreating into the efficient frigidity of the Soldier. Once she’d calmed down Tanika spent twenty minutes crying quietly while looking out the window, seemingly almost unaware of her own hitching breath and wet face. Once she’d processed the experience, however, her tears dried up, and she passed the rest of the drive watching Bucky with a worried notch between her brows.

There was probably more Steve should be doing to help, but he felt too shaken up himself. He spent most of the day twisted in his seat, staring at the back of May’s carrier and her one tiny hand gripping the edge. There was a horrible part of him that couldn’t stop replaying the attack over and over again, dwelling on every mistake, imagining every unspeakable outcome. That night while Bucky slept Steve cradled May in his arms and allowed himself to weep, silently, shakingly, hot tears soaking into her sleepsuit. He could feel her heartbeat against his palm.

She slept through it like she slept through everything. Steve finally wiped his face and laughed at her. His mother had had many friends who would have been jealous of such a sound sleeper. She’d have sniffed and said _‘am I boring you?’_ while soothing her even deeper.

Swallowing back the taste of grief Steve replaced the baby in her new travel bed, feeling the edge of horror that had coloured the world finally bleed away.

During his vigil he turned to watch the others. Bucky was curled up on his side, face hidden under his hair. Steve knew he’d had trouble assimilating his only newly regained emotions today, and he wished he could relieve some of his burden. He wanted to tell him, _it’s okay, anyone would fall in love with them._

A little before midnight Tanika jerked in her bed, whimpering funny cut off sounds into her pillow. Her lashes were wet and fluttering when Steve knelt down at her bedside. A certain tenseness in the air told him Bucky was awake.

“Wake up, Tanika, it’s okay,” he soothed her, stroking her forehead.

She didn’t jerk up into a sitting position like Steve so often did when woken from a nightmare, or throw herself out of bed diving for a knife like Natasha had once. When her eyes opened they opened wide, and her breathing stayed harsh, but aside from every muscle locking solid she didn’t move.

“It’s just me, Nik,” Steve murmured softly, “we’re in a motel, Bucky’s right there behind me.”

Tanika’s overbright eyes took him in, and then flicked towards the darkness behind him. Steve kept moving his thumb across her hairline, and after a moment she began to relax.

“You feeling better?” He asked after a quiet interlude. “You want some water?” Tanika shook her head mutely. “Can you go back to sleep?”

She bit her lip. “I’m scared.”

“Duh,” Steve told her, parodying her patiallity for the phrase. “It was a nightmare. They’re supposed to be scary.” Tanika let out a snort like she didn’t mean to, mouth curling up. “You want me to sit up with you?” He asked, but she was looking at something behind him. A rustle of cloth made Steve turn around as well, to see Bucky holding his covers open in invitation.

Tanika wriggled past him out of bed, flashing across the room to burrow in next to Bucky in an instant. He threw the blanket over her, and his arm as well, immediately closing his eyes as if unbothered by her crushing grip on his neck or her hair tickling his face.

Steve felt like there was a truck parked on his chest, like he was having an asthma attack, like he was dying. He drank the sight in, burning it into his memory, so desperate for a sketchbook he could almost smell the graphite.

“Goodnight, you two,” he croaked.

“Night, Dad,” Tanika mumbled into Bucky’s collarbone, one foot already edging out from under the blankets. Steve closed his eyes.

A few hours later when it was Bucky’s turn for watch he spent fully five minutes extracting himself from Tanika without waking her, jerking his head at her grumpily to indicate Steve should replace him before he fully got up, and he was so pleased to see the familiar expression he almost laughed.

Gathering a sleep-warm Tanika into his arms was a surreal experience, but Steve didn’t have any time to dwell on it as the emotional toil of the day dragged him almost instantly into sleep. His last muzzy thought was wondering whether Bucky had ever felt like this, back when he was small.

* * *

The HYDRA contact lived in a distressingly normal suburb in Tacoma. Bucky pulled the second stolen car in two days into the driveway and got out like it was his own place. To Steve’s surprise he went around to take the baby, tucking her into one arm before grabbing out a gun with a futuristic silencer. Following his lead Steve helped Tanika down from the tall SUV and shoved his own favoured handgun into its holster under his coat, relying on his fists as his stealth weapon.

“Stay quiet, and stay behind us,” Bucky ordered Tanika, “and if anything goes wrong, drop.”

"Есть, Папа,” Tanika replied, and Steve shivered.

And then they just. Walked up and knocked. Up the street someone was herding their dog into the house, and Guy Fieri was clearly visible on the neighbour’s television through the window.

A dumpy man with nicotine-stained fingers opened the door, looking perfectly consistent with his corner of the universe. His damp little eyes widened as they fell on the gun held in Bucky’s silver hand, though it was unclear which it was that caused such terror.

"C-солдат,” he stuttered, stumbling back from the door without resistance. Bucky plowed forward, not bothering to raise the gun in the man’s direction, crossing through the living room like he’d been there before. Which he had, Steve was coming to realise.

One of the back bedrooms had been converted into a workroom, lined with dusty boxes labeled things like ‘winter clothes’, ‘Marjorie’, and ‘christmas’. Several ancient printers cluttered the benches.

The man stumbled to the desk on shaking knees, eyes darting around suspiciously. Steve wondered if he had ways of contacting HYDRA.

“Full. Canadian.” Bucky snapped the words out like orders and they obviously meant something to the ferrety counterfeiter. Bucky put the gun ostentatiously on the table so he could scribble their fake names and ages down, a calculated display of power. He picked up the gun and used the muzzle to slide the paper towards the man, May still asleep against his chest.

The forger trembled. “Married and adopted?” he asked in quick, unaccented English.

Bucky nodded and passed the baby to Steve to begin going through the boxes. Tanika had followed behind them like a ghost, and she now haunted the corner of the workshop with silent, sharp eyes. Steve suspected she was going to be honestly terrifying when she grew up.

The forger was going through a filing cabinet, fishing out certificates and bank statements and the like seemingly at random. He bent to load one into a printer, his posture at once fearful and resigned.

“Steve,” Bucky got his attention, holding the gun out grip first. Steve took it without hesitation, but was surprised when Bucky started stripping off his shirt and jacket. He lifted a film canister from a box labeled ‘kitchen’ but pulled out a roll of silvery cloth. He shook it out and Steve saw it was a sleeve. Bucky slipped the thing over his left arm, smoothing the edge along the ridge of scarring where it attached. It clung seamlessly, a layer of cobwebs over skin and metal. After a moment it _glitched,_ out of focus though Steve was looking right at it, and then Bucky stood there with two human arms. Steve blinked. He hadn’t realised he’d gotten so used to the arm until it was gone. The sleeve didn’t make him look like the old Bucky—he was too muscled and scarred for that—just like he was missing something. Steve wondered at his vague sense of loss.

“Did they make that just for you?” He wondered out loud. Bucky didn’t answer, but shoved several spares into his pocket after he was dressed.

The little man cleared his throat gingerly, indicating two stacks of paper and two pens on the desk. “If you like I can go set up the studio while you sign these—”

“No. Stay in sight.” Bucky smiled thinly. “I have all night.”

They’d agreed on his name before they’d even left New York, but Steve hadn’t considered needing a signature. Inexplicably nervous he scribbled _Grant Claremont_ in his messiest writing over and over, his alter-ego’s life unfolding before him. Medical documents, credit cards, marriage license. He stared at the adoption certificate of Nicole Claremont-Hunt but forced himself to sign with a steady hand. He paused when he caught sight of the baby’s papers. For a moment he hesitated to speak in front of the man, but three could keep a secret if two were dead.

“You’re using her real name?”

Bucky glanced over at him. He didn’t answer for a moment, studiously signing his own papers. If Steve didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was nervous. “It isn’t,” he said at length.

Steve’s eyes widened. “It isn’t her real name?”

Bucky’s mouth tightened. “She didn’t have one.”

For a moment Steve didn’t understand, and then he felt his breath catch. “You named her?” Bucky shrugged, but the plastic of his pen was going white under the pressure. “It’s beautiful,” he declared without hesitation, and Bucky’s shoulders relaxed minutely.

He had never considered how much paperwork one amassed in one’s life in the 21st century. Bucky finished well before he did, wandering off to sift through the boxes once again. Steve’s hand was beginning to cramp by the time he was finally done, pushing the papers towards the little man to be witnessed and stamped. He was stretching out the tendons and shifting May into his other arm when a musical sound made him look up.

Bucky was rifling through a beat up shoebox that jingled like it was full of coins. Tanika stood by his side peaking into it interestedly. He frowned, moving things around in the box, until he found what he was looking for. Without looking he flicked the object at Steve, who only managed to catch it because of his enhanced reflexes. Steve opened his hand.

It was a ring.

A plain gold band that looked about the right size, uncommonly common. It was freezing against the skin of his palm. Steve glanced at Bucky to see him trying on its silvery twin, shaking his camouflaged hand to check it would stay in place. Steve looked down at his again. He could feel Tanika’s eyes on him, her burning need to comment rubbing up against her orders.

Holding May in place with his wrist Steve tried to pass the ring into his right hand, but felt her budge and almost dropped it in his haste to steady her.

Clicking his tongue Steve fumbled it back into his palm to try again—and then Bucky was plucking it out of his hand.

His left hand was cold where he held Steve’s fingers splayed, which made Steve very aware of the brush of heat as he slid the ring on with his other. Bucky tugged it gently a few times, checking it fit okay. He was standing very close. Steve couldn’t read his expression. Bucky stepped away without meeting his eyes.

“A-are you ready for your photos?” The forger inquired. Bucky’s gun materialised and he lead the way out of the little room without answering. Steve brought up the rear, ushering Tanika in front of him.

The next room was set up with complicated lighting, a white cloth hung on one wall and a silvered umbrella in a corner. The little man began skittering about turning on lights and assembling machines. Tanika watched it all curiously, reaching out to hold Steve’s hand seemingly unconsciously. His ring glinted against her darker skin.

“Uh, stand—stand on the tape and don’t smile.” Bucky lined himself up with a strange machine with practiced ease, looking at the lense the man pointed to. Steve took his turn next, well used to this process from his miraculous reintegration into the world of the living. Tanika followed the instructions perfectly, looking excited.

They trooped back into the workshop to have their passports and licences printed, signed and stamped. Steve brushed his fingers over his own photograph; despite the beard, he looked younger.

The man packed all their documents into four plastic envelopes, darting his eyes at Bucky the whole time.

“Come on, Tanika,” Steve said without being prompted, and lead the way out of the house. He wondered what it said about him that he felt nothing as his hearing picked up the tiny _zzrt_ of a life snuffing out. He wondered how many murders that man had facilitated for his creed. Had he hailed them, at the end?

Tanika needed a boost to get into her seat, chattering about the house’s funny smell. He buckled the baby in, careful not to wake her.

Bucky thunked into the driver's seat looking looser than he had since WWII. He thumbed through the documents for everyone’s passport and his licence, hiding the envelopes under the seat.

“We’re going to Canada?” Tanika asked excitedly.

“Oui, mon trésor,” Bucky replied, the corners of his mouth turning up. Steve realised he’d been rubbing the smooth band of his ring over and over.

“ _Nice,_ ” Tanika said, making Steve laugh and reach back to squeeze her knee.

The border crossing was uneventful, and Tanika fell asleep not long after that. They stopped in some smallish town for the night, Tanika spending the whole night in Bucky’s bed. In the morning the car’s plates had been mysteriously switched, and Bucky handed them all out warm breakfast sandwiches to eat while they drove. It wasn’t long—by their inflated standards—until they reached Vancouver. To Steve’s surprise Bucky brought them to a nice hotel, unpacking all their things from the car and paying for three nights.

“Wait here,” he told them as they piled into the room with all their worldly belongings. Steve wanted to demand to come with, but something in Bucky’s eyes made him relax.

“So _I’m_ the house husband, then,” Steve rolled his eyes but dutifully sat down.

“I expect dinner on the table at seven,” Bucky deadpanned, and disappeared back out the door.

Steve cajoled Tanika into taking her first day nap in a real bed since he’d met her and then changed and fed the baby, closing himself in the bathroom when she made a fuss so as not to bother Tanika.

After more than an hour Bucky returned, a BestBuy bag balanced on top of a stack of pizza boxes. Bucky happily ignored any questions about the shopping he’d done, seeming deeply focused on Tanika’s explanation of the cartoon they were watching, dripping barbeque sauce on the bag nestled protectively in his lap.

Huffing a sigh that didn’t cover his fondness one iota Steve grabbed a pizza box of his own and allowed himself to just watch them, greasy smiles shining in the afternoon sun.

Bucky’s commitment to suspense thankfully didn’t extend to letting his pizza grow cold, so soon enough he emptied the bag onto the bed and got up to wash his hands.

Two smartphone boxes fell out along with a cheap burner, and a larger box containing an expensive laptop. The car keys were also in there, but upon closer inspection they were different to the ones they’d used this morning.

“What’s all this, Bucky?”

“Stuff,” he said, giving the word weight, and Steve instantly understood. He felt his eyes go wide as he pushed to his feet.

“Really?” Bucky shrugged, but his shoulders were light, his eyes warm. Steve laughed in delight, unable to contain his joy.

“What?” Tanika demanded, and Steve spun around to scoop her up high against his chest.

“We’re staying, Nikki!” He grinned up at her.

“In the hotel?” She asked, horrified.

“In Vancouver,” Bucky told her wryly.

Her eyes got big. “Forever?”

“As good as.”

Steve laughed again as Tanika whooped and threw her arm around his neck. Her other stretched out towards Bucky and Steve couldn’t help but mirror it. He was too happy to care that they hadn’t touched since the day they dreamt up this crazy plan, too happy to overthink it when he froze up. Stepping close enough for Tanika to hook him in Steve wrapped his arm around his waist and squeezed them all together. Bucky’s body was rigid against his for a moment, but Tanika was shouting about Canada and messing up his hair and he melted. Steve pressed his smile against his hair and breathed him in. Bucky’s arms came around them in turn and Steve’s breath caught, tears pricking his eyes though his face hurt from smiling.

All the noise woke May from her nap and her voice joined the din, her cries echoing like laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve is hipster lumberjack dad. Bucky is casual street style dad. If they were smart they'd try harder not to turn heads. 
> 
> Hope that was some percentage as fun to read as it was to write. Next up: me failing at domesticity.
> 
> *horrific squelching noises as I devour your comments for fuel*
> 
> Translations for mobile:  
> Yessir, Papa  
> S-soldier  
> Yes, my treasure


	3. Chapter 3

The hotel had free wifi, and Bucky spend the rest of the day scrolling through real estate listings. He pointedly ignored all of Steve’s input, silently mocking his taste. 

“We converting our cash?” Steve inquired.

Bucky shook his head and pointed at the ID packets. “HYDRA’s paying.”

Steve frowned. “Is that safe?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, which Steve took as a good sign. 

By the time Tanika was ready for bed they had several potential places to check out. Bucky set up an email account to let the agents know they’d pay the full amount up front if they could be given private viewings the next day, and every one agreed without hesitation. 

Happy to have some down time Steve had neatened his facial hair and done a load of laundry in the hotel’s machine, so the very next day they all got dressed in their nicest clothes without consulting each other. It was as if they wanted to look their best for the first day of their lives. 

The first house was perfectly nice, but it required a full paint job and new carpets, and Steve couldn’t be bothered. The next place was huge, two stories and six bedrooms, but the main problem was how far it was from the city. Tanika described it as a ghost house; it certainly felt lonely enough. The third was Steve’s favourite, a nice four bedroom in a nice neighbourhood, near to a school and with a small backyard. It was almost comically idyllic—Bucky called it Pleasantville but explaining the reference was apparently beneath him. Tanika spent most of her time in the yard, rolling in the grass like a dog. For completion's sake, however, they decide to check out the last place anyway.

The drive really wasn’t that long, but it felt it, the twisting suburban complex growing deeper and deeper. Finally they turned onto a quiet cul-de-sac, the houses a little smaller, a little less well kept than the last place. The final house on the row was built from blond brick, with a cheerful yellow for sale sign and a nervous looking girl standing on the curb in front. 

Bucky pulled their new gold SUV into the driveway and Steve caught a glimpse of a cop car parked in their left neighbour’s open garage. Getting out Steve walked over to the woman, introducing himself with a big smile and a firm handshake. The agent—who couldn’t have been more than nineteen—shook Bucky’s hand as well, once he arrived with the baby on his hip, and told them to call her Kristie. Tanika raced ahead when Kristie mentioned it was unlocked, banging inside the house with the same enthusiasm she had the other three places. 

The front yard was small, and pretty unkempt. It wouldn’t take much work to get nice, Kristie assured them hastily, just a bit of TLC. They wandered through the—inexplicably turquoise—front door to the small living room. It was separated from the kitchen by only the counter, warm wood flooring stretching through the whole house.

“Um, as you know, there’re three bedrooms and one bathroom. The, uh, kitchen is pretty modern, the previous owners had it redone not long ago. And the light! Lots of light, you don’t see that so much in these older houses but those are some big windows, ah, wouldn't you say?” Kristie babbled. 

“I would,” Steve said slowly, his brain assaulting him with images of an easel tucked into the corner, a sketchbook resting on the arm of a couch. Bucky looked at him like he was reading the thought right out of his head. 

“How are the bedrooms, Nik?” Bucky asked her as she skidded back into the room. 

“They’ve got these big closets. I think the one in the big bedroom is big enough to be May’s bedroom!” She claimed maliciously. Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I think I’ll let her have her own, Nikki,” he said. “What do you need a spare room for, anyway?”

“Extra snack storage,” she told him him before getting immediately distracted by the glass door leading to the backyard. The handle was high but Tanika still got it open before they could reach her. The backyard was modest, some scraggly bushes lining the fence and a patchy lawn covering the rest. Behind it seemed to be a tiny pocket of forest, obviously left as a noise barrier for the road beyond. The fence had a gate at the back, which Tanika wasted no time racing through. 

Kristie distracted them with random details for a while longer, but Steve was almost tempted to tell her it wasn’t necessary. She was halfway through a discussion of the wiring when a loud squawk from behind them made Steve spin around. He’d been half-listening to Tanika while Kristie talked, and he knew Bucky had been keeping an eye on her. Apparently in that time she’d managed to scale a large tree, currently mostly bare of its leaves, all the way to the top. The noise appeared to have come from the right neighbour’s yard, but Steve couldn’t see over their shared fence. 

“Young lady, you are going to fall to your death,” came the voice again, heavily accented and brittle with age. “You’ll fall and break all your bones and your brain will leak out your ears.”

“Gross,” Tanika said with a grin, clearly able to see the woman from her perch in the tree. 

“You think that’s gross? Wait until your parents have to scrape your bloody guts off the ground!” Steve blinked.

“You’re being careful, right Nikki?” Bucky called to her. 

“Yeeees,” she replied in a bored tone. 

“She’s being careful,” he told the woman through the wood. 

“Oh, well, in that case,” the woman replied, sour as vinegar. 

“You’re just jealous you can’t get up here,” Tanika said reasonably.

“And I’m sure  _ you’re  _ jealous I own a gun,” she sniped acerbically. 

“Jealous ain’t the word,” Steve muttered amusedly under his breath for Bucky’s ears only. Kristie’s eyes were like dinner plates, her trembling hands white-knuckled around her clipboard.

“I don’t need a gun, I can just wait in this tree and throw food at people!”

“Leave her alone, Nik, she’s bitter about your youthful beauty is all,” Bucky said loudly, though his face remained stoic as ever.

“Oh, I’m bitter alright. And you know what else is bitter? Formaldehyde.” 

“We’ll take it,” Steve said to Kristie.

* * *

 

They filled out the paperwork right there, securing unofficial permission to start moving in. The rest of the day was spent filling the car with Stuff—they made two trips to Ikea and barely scratched the surface, and that night at the hotel Bucky was back online ordering mattresses and white goods to be delivered. The next day, when they finally finished buying a whole new life, Steve and Bucky set about building the furniture. Bucky had always had a mechanical mind, and apparently he spoke Swedish, but they still got barely any of it done by the time the mattresses arrived. 

They’d gotten a single loft for Tanika and a queen for them, for the sake of keeping up appearances. Steve watched impotently as the delivery men dragged the things into the house, not able to help though he could lift them both with one arm. Their washer/dryer and refrigerator were just left in the driveway, however, so he and Bucky made a show of carrying them into the house together.

The day went in the blink of an eye, cupboards filling with linens and drawers with spoons. Tanika raced around so fiercely she burned through her meatball lunch by five o’clock and reminded them that they hadn’t bought any food. Placating her with crackers Steve pushed her around the grocery store in a cart as they spent more than an hour buying essentials, and afterwards they were too tired to do more than make sandwiches and eat them sitting on the floor. 

That night the three of them slept in a tangle of blankets on the queen mattress on the floor, the baby in her Pack N Play by the ‘bed’. Bucky had materialised a bunch of HYDRA security gadgets and rigged them up around their home, set so they’d vibrate a sensor in his arm to give them the element of surprise. It meant that for the first time since they’d gone on the run they all went to sleep together. Tanika was curled up between them, her head pillowed on Bucky’s chest. Steve could tell from his breathing that he wasn’t asleep. The house creaked and settled in a language Steve would come to know, the baby sucking in her sleep. The spaces between Steve’s ribs were full, overflowing, running up into his throat and choking him. Careful not to wake her Bucky unwound his arm from Tanika’s back. With her sleeping on his bicep it ending up lying across Steve’s chest, palm open. Steve slotted their fingers together and tipped his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. 

“ _ Thank you, _ ” he whispered, wearing an expression Steve had never seen on a person outside a church.

Steve shook his head. “No,” he told him, “no,” desperate for him to understand, and he did. The smile that spread across his face was as slow and sacred as a sunrise, though Steve knew there were few people on Earth who could read it. Steve bruised Bucky’s fingers involuntarily as it swept through him, and Bucky returned the pressure just as hard.

* * *

The next day Steve was trying to make all their boxes fit into the trash when a polite throat clearing made him turn around.

The man on their curb appeared to be in his early fifties, with a shaved head and smile lines carved in his mahogany skin. Beginning to thicken around the middle he still had broad, strong shoulders and capable arms. He was dressed in civvies, but Steve knew instantly that this was the policeman. 

“Hi,” Steve said welcomingly. “How can I help you?”

“It’s more about how I can help you, son,” The man replied, smiling with his eyes. “I’m your neighbour,” he waved towards his own house, “and I wanted to welcome you to the street, see if you needed anything.” The offer was made in good faith, but it was still a test. 

“Well we put together the last of the flatpacks at about 3:00am last night, so we’re passed the worst of it now,” he replied wryly. “I’m Grant, by the way.” He stuck out his hand.

“Jacob.” His handshake was strong. 

“Would you like to come in?”

“No, no, I’d better not. If I get the first look in there Zofia will be jealous, and it isn’t worth the trouble,” he said with a twinkle. “I hear you’ve already met her.”

“If by ‘met’ you mean my husband sassed her through the fence, then yes. Assuming that was Zofia,” he added, tilting his head towards the old woman’s house. 

“Oh yes. Everyone’s heard that story already,” the man said with amusement. 

Steve raised his eyebrows. “That was fast.”

“The houses on this street are held up by pure gossip, but we look after our own.” The man gave Steve an assessing look. Steve smiled disarmingly, something he had perfected in the early days post-serum after learning people occasionally found giant muscle-bound supersoldiers intimidating. “If you want any chance at deciding your own narrative you’ll have to meet us all sometime soon.” Jacob pointed at Zofia’s other neighbour. “Otherwise you and your husband will be murderers or superheroes by the end of the week.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Steve said without missing a beat, certain Bucky was laughing at him from inside. 

Jacob nodded, shooting Zofia’s house a longsuffering look before bidding him good afternoon. Her curtains twiched. 

“He’s right,” Bucky told Steve later as they sweated their way through the infernal puzzle that was supposed to be their coffee table. “We should meet them.”

“I can’t believe  _ you’re _ suggesting we host a dinner party.” Steve said, squinting at a length of metal curved on two different planes. 

“I’m not. I’m the Winter Soldier.”

“So?” A screw bounced off the centre of Steve’s forehead. “Well, what were you suggesting? Throw a ball into the Fujikawa’s yard and send Tanika in like it was an accident?” Bucky tipped his head like he was considering it. “We’re not doing that.”

“Maybe you could do some gardening without you shirt and wait for someone to offer you some lemonade.”

“It’s fifty degrees out there, Buck.”

“So?” He mimicked.  

“It’s just a reconnaissance mission, Soldier. Can’t you just suck it up and have a conversation like a normal person?” Bucky raised his eyebrows at him.  _ Can you?  _ “Why did I marry you, you’re so mean to me,” Steve muttered and took another screw to the face. 

Thankfully a few hours later the decision was taken out of their hands when Bucky’s head snapped towards the window like a pointer dog. Steve got up to peek carefully out the window, seeing a chubby white woman and tall Asian man walking up their drive. 

“Neighbours,” Steve told Bucky, but called down the hall that Tanika should stay in her room, just in case. 

When the knock came Steve got up to answer it with a mocking eye roll at Bucky’s misanthropy.

“Hello! Hello!” The young woman boomed, grinning merrily at them. She had blond hair and rosy cheeks and when she spoke her voice was boisterous and gay. “We’re your neighbours! My  _ goodness,  _ look at your—you! Are you seeing his biceps, my love? I think our neighbour is an underwear model!” Steve blinked.

The man’s eyes crinkled. “It’s nice to meet you, Calvin,” he said quietly, making the woman guffaw. “My name is Nao, and this is my wife, Winnie.”

“And this is our son!” She exclaimed, pointing at her modestly curved belly.

Nao raised an eyebrow. “Or daughter. It’s early days.”

“Feels likes years since I’ve had a drink though. Can we come in?”

Nao frowned a little as his wife, and Steve hadn’t realised how warm his expression had been until it lessened. “Sweetheart.”

“Oh, hell, sorry. I’m just so excited! If it’s a bad time you can always come to dinner with the lot of us this week some time.”

This must have sounded like a threat to Bucky, because he immediately called “Just let them in, babe!” which Steve hadn’t expected at all. 

“You heard the man,” he said with a smile, stepping away from the door. “I’m Grant, by the way,” he said as they filed into the living room. “And this is my husband, James—”

“I should hope you got a ring on that! Did you meet at a photoshoot?!” 

“—and our daughter, May,” Steve finished because he had no other response.

Bucky was still sitting on the floor surrounded by parts, eyebrows raised in amusement. The baby was in her Pack N Play trying to catch her own feet, and Steve watched their reactions to her carefully just in case. He could see from the way his hand curled around a table leg that Bucky was ready for things to go wrong. But nobody whipped any automatic weapons from under their coats, and after a moment Steve relaxed. 

“She must be very skilled to get up a tree at her age,” Nao murmured, and Winnie cracked up again. 

“No, that would be our pet koala,” Bucky said wryly. “Nikki! Come out and meet the neighbours!” He hadn’t let go of the chair leg, and Steve was greatful. 

Tanika skipped out of her room at lightning speed, skidding a little on the floorboards. Her face split with a huge grin when she caught sight of them. “Hi!” She said, actually bouncing a little. “I’m Nikki!” 

“Nikki!” Winnie matched her enthusiasm effortlessly. “You’re just as beautiful as your fathers!”

Nao nodded. “Amazing genetics,” he said solemnly. Even Bucky laughed at that, even if it was only with his eyes. 

They didn’t stay long, just exchanged some basic pleasantries. Tanika took control of the conversation almost immediately, happily nodding along as Nao explained that he was a history professor and his wife an engineer, telling them all about how their old house wasn’t big enough for the new baby and that her Papa was a security consultant and her Dad looked after the kids and they both used to be in the Army where they met! Steve relaxed and let her have the reigns. She was a much better liar than he was. Steve blamed the gap in the bottom row of her teeth. It was distractingly adorable. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Steve asked Bucky once they’d gone. 

“You don’t get to say that, Nik did all the work.”

“You and her are the spies, I just punch things.”

Tanika demanded mac and cheese for dinner that night, and Steve would have made it with cheese from the moon if she’d asked.

* * *

The next day when Steve woke up Bucky and Tanika were sitting together on their new couch talking seriously.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked muzzily, dragging himself to the coffee machine. 

“We need to learn more about Nik’s powers,” Bucky said, and that woke him up as effectively as espresso.

“Yeah.” Steve blew out a breath. “What do we know already?”

“They did a lot of tests, Back There,” Tanika said, shoulders hunched. “Only mostly on other people. Like, they would do things to them, and then I would Ask them something, to try and see if they would sleep less long.”

“Did everyone sleep the same amount of time?” 

Tanika shook her head. “Don’t think so. There was this one lady who got tested a lot, ‘cause she didn’t sleep so long.” She looked away. “Still pretty long though.”

“Do you know why?” 

Tanika shrugged, looking down like she was worried she’d disappointed Bucky. As if that were possible. “They didn’t really talk to me. Just gave me questions to Ask.”

“That’s okay, kiddo.” Bucky pulled her into his lap, though from the faraway look in his eyes Steve thought that might have been for his own comfort. Tanika curled into it, looking small. 

“Does the question make a difference?” Steve asked.

Tanika bit her lip as she tried to remember. “I... think so. If… if they didn’t want you to know, they slept longer.” She nodded to herself, growing more confident. “Yeah. If it was embarrassing or secret they wouldn’t wake up for the  _ whole day.  _ If it was just their name or whatever it was shorter.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully. Bucky glanced at him sharply, obviously thinking the same thing. It was a solid theory. Only one way to be sure though. “I think you should Ask me a question, baby girl,” Steve announced and Bucky frowned. 

“Like what?”

“Something secret.”

“And knock you out for the day?” Bucky asked dubiously, a hint of real worry in his eyes. 

“It might be shorter for me, because of the serum.” Steve shrugged. 

Bucky shook his head, looking away. “There’s no point if you don’t do an easy question as well, for a control.” 

“Fair enough.” Steve wandered over to sit by them on the couch. “Would you like to choose, sweetheart? My name, maybe?”

Tanika shrugged nervously, still curled in Bucky’s lap. “Name’s okay.” 

Bucky’s arms tightened around Tanika. “Anything ever go wrong with your powers, Nik? Anyone ever not wake up?”

Tanika frowned. “I don’t  _ think _ so.” She swallowed. “I mean, maybe they didn’t tell me, but.”

“It’s fine Buck. This is her. We need to know how it works.” He didn’t look convinced, mouth still tense with caution, but he didn’t argue. 

Steve looked at Tanika. He knew what she was going to ask him, and like being told not to think of pink elephants his name sat right there at the front of his mind. Tanika sucked in a big lungful of air, and then her question was bouncing off the inside of his skull. “ _ What is your name? _ ”

The words were torn out of his mind through his mouth. It hurt,  _ Christ  _ it hurt. It was like seeing your own intestines, like remembering someone you love is dead. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he choked, and the pressure was gone, darkness rushing in to replace it.

* * *

He had no idea how long it had been when he woke up. The sun was coming in at a different angle, burning through his lids from where he lay on the couch. “Mphg,” he said.

“You up?”

“Yeah.”

“You have a thing for being a human guinea pig?”

“No,” he groaned, pulling himself into an upright position. Bucky had obviously pulled him properly onto the couch and was sitting with Steve’s feet in his lap reading a pulp novel. “How long?’

“Five hours. Nik said the shortest she can remember was eight.”

Steve digested this, looking over at where she was making a Black Widow figurine cast spells at a stuffed shark in the corner, seeming much calmer. “I wonder if it’s the serum, or because she knows me?”

“I think it’s because you know her,” Bucky said bluntly. “Because you trust her, so you didn’t fight it.”

Steve scratched his beard. “I think you might be right.”

Bucky pinched his foot painfully. “You think that, do you,” he muttered. Steve frowned, but before he could ask Bucky pushed to his feet. “Are you going to have lunch with us before you let us experiment on you again, or what?”

Bucky ended up cooking them all soup, which they ate with grilled cheeses at the counter while Tanika told them all about the squirrel that kept coming to the window that day (his name was Harrison and he was a spy for the Dark Lord). 

Afterward Steve just went back to bed, since he probably wouldn’t wake until the next morning. “Do you know what you want to Ask me?” He asked Tanika. She thought about it. 

“If you’re not sure we can go outside to talk about it,” Bucky suggested. “I don’t think he should know what the question is.” 

Tanika shook her head. “No, I think I know what to Ask.” She shot Steve a look. “We did this test a lot.”

Steve smiled at her encouragingly. “I trust you,” he told her, and Bucky closed his eyes. 

She nodded and swallowed determinedly. “Okay. Ready, Dad?”

“Ready.”

She inhaled. “ _ What is your deepest secret? _ ”

There was no time to pause, no hesitating in the face of the compunction. And yet the moment stretched on, blunt fingers digging into the meat of his brain, dragging his guts out through his mouth, raking his soul. It was only a moment but Steve wanted it to  _ end _ .

And yet, how could he let it? How could he speak those words? How could he unbury that thought which he did not even speak in his own mind? 

But it wasn’t his choice. 

“There was a parachute on the Valkyrie.” 

The darkness came like the ice.

* * *

This time when Steve blinked his eyes open it was dark, though he was still alone in the bed. A glance around revealed Bucky sitting on the floor in the corner, elbow propped on his knee, chin in hand, and a gun in his lap.

He was watching over Steve. 

“Hey,” he said his voice rough with sleep. Bucky’s face was unreadable. 

“Hey,” he said after a moment. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.” Bucky’s eyes hadn’t wavered from his face. Steve swallowed, wishing he knew what he was thinking. The silence stretched too long and he had to look away. “Do you think I am a coward?”

His voice was loud in the dark.

“No,” Bucky said softly. Steve stared at the ceiling, picturing the stars above it, awaiting judgement. “I think you are a man, Steve Rogers,” he whispered.

Steve sucked in a shaking breath, tears spilling over into his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, but he heard the thunk of the gun on the floor and the rustle of Bucky’s clothes as he rose. The mattress dipped as Bucky lay down beside him, his hand brushing over his chest. Steve reached up to clutch it, pressing it over his heart.

“Half of one,” he rasped. “You were gone.” 

Bucky pressed his face into Steve’s neck, legs tangling with his, and Steve thought there truly was a life after death, paradise eternal.

* * *

Steve was shaken from his concentration when a firm knock echoed through the house. Bucky had been gardening in the front yard, so he knew whoever it was had passed his approval, so he wasn’t worried. Steve glanced around for a cloth to wipe his hands on.

He and Tanika had been painting the walls of her bedroom. She had put in requests for portraits of her favourite toys and characters, and was herself happily constructing an abstract expressionist mural on the opposite wall. A quick glance down confirmed his tank was covered in bright smears of paint, and he knew for a fact it was on his face too; Tanika was an ambush predator. 

The insistent knock came again, so Steve shrugged his appearance off and went to answer. 

Zofia stood on the doorstep, a tiny, wizened force of nature as usual. She snorted at the sight of him.

“Seeing as I passed your  _ husband _ on the way in I really don’t think wearing the rainbow was necessary,” she sniped. 

“You don’t like it? It’s all the rage in Paris.” Steve loved Zofia. 

“In Paris they eat cheese swarming with insects, I wouldn’t trust their good taste,” she sniffed. “Now go wash your hands, the both of you, I need your help.” 

Steve saluted her with a wink and got a withering glare in exchange, glancing behind her to see Bucky dragging himself off his knees in the dirt to follow him in. 

A few minutes (and a lot of soapy water) later everyone had assembled in Zofia’s living room, which was characterised by an abundance of clashing florals and beautifully maintained antique furniture. Steve spotted an  SS-Degen in the umbrella stand. Tanika was immediately off to poke her nose into everything, and Zofia snapped her fingers to indicate Steve should hand her the baby.

“Sorry, she’s still grizzly from her shots yesterday,” he apologised.

“Get used to it little one,” she said to her, jerking her head at Steve and Bucky to lead them deeper into the house. “Life is pain, and men are always trying to poke you.” Seriously, Steve loved her.

“Dr. Hamid is a woman,” Bucky deadpanned. “Don’t be sexist, Zofia.”

“Don’t you lecture me,” Zofia wagged her finger at him over her shoulder. “I survived the holocaust, sonny boy.” 

“And?” Bucky loved her too.

“ _ And  _ I know neither of you have a brain in your heads but God clearly gave you two double rations of muscle.” She swung the door of a spare bedroom opened and pointed with a gnarled finger. “I want that piano in the living room, thank you very much.”

Bucky whistled and Steve had to agree. It was a gorgeous upright with burr walnut inlays, not a speck of dust maring the gleaming wood. 

“I don’t play so well anymore, but my oldest friend is coming to visit soon, and I want her to think I do,” Zofia explained without shame. Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

“What are neighbours for?” He said, following Bucky over to the piano. He got a good grip, ignoring the casters in place for just this purpose.

“Don’t expect a plate of cookies or something in return,” she replied acerbically. Steve winked as they shuffled past her into the hallway. She loved them. 

The piano fitted perfectly into the corner behind the couch, and Steve flipped the lid to check they hadn’t affected the tuning. It sounded right to him, but when he looked up to check with Bucky after his clumsy glissando he found him frowning down at the keys.

“I think…” Bucky pushed Steve out of the way, laying his hands on the keys, still standing up. Steve felt his heart constrict, seeing double, the past laid over the future. Bucky pressed G with his right, and for a moment the note rung out alone. Then something in his jaw firmed, and suddenly Zofia’s house was filled with music. Steve bit his lip as he recognised the tune, if vaguely; some popular song from their time converted into something you could dance to, like everything in Bucky’s repertoire. His hands hopped over the keys too fast to see, plucking out a lively swing rhythm. 

“Well why didn’t you  _ say _ so,” Zofia said sourly, and Steve swept her up in his arms. They couldn’t dance properly with the baby on her hip, but she obligingly let him steer her around the room in a gentle foxtrot, glaring the whole time as if she weren’t gliding along with him. 

Bucky played for almost half an hour, standing the whole time, expression open and awed as he stared at his own hands. They’d left the door open, and at some point Winnie came in with a bottle of homemade cherry wine and texted an unending stream of messages at Jacob until he dragged himself there as well. Somebody finally got Bucky the piano’s stool and Steve happily whirled Winnie around though she had no idea what to do, offending Zofia so much she finally stopped pretending to hate dancing and took a proper turn with him.

If he closed his eyes Steve could be right back there, in the Barnes’ living room, dancing with the girls. But when he opened his eyes it was better; his friends and daughters there in full colour, no war or scarcity to chase away. Handing Zofia over to Tanika—who was a much better dancer than Steve anyway—he pressed his cheek against Bucky’s hair and tried to find somewhere to fit his joy.

* * *

As soon as Steve got home he could tell something was off. Bucky was sitting cross-legged on the couch with the laptop on his lap, his expression tense. Tanika was in her room, when she generally preferred to hang out in the common spaces even when she was doing her own thing. 

“What’s wrong,” he asked warily as he put the groceries on the bench. 

Bucky shook his head. “There’s chatter about something big happening with HYDRA in France. I dunno what it is, but there’s definitely going to be a lot of higher-ups in one place.”

“You want to go,” Steve observed.

Bucky shook his head. “No. I don’t want to leave you exposed. It’s just frustrating—this is exactly the kind of thing I would have jumped on before—” He broke off and snuck a glance at Steve. “...before I came to you.” 

Steve started putting the groceries away as Bucky turned back to the screen. He couldn’t deny there was a certain itch in him to still be  _ doing  _ something, something beyond hacking HYDRA’s accounts and donating all their money to building hospitals and shelters. And the more resources HYDRA had the more danger the girls were in. 

“You should go,” Steve decided. Bucky looked up, shocked. Steve met his eyes steadily. “You should go. Fuck them up so they don’t have time to look for us for a while. Let a few of them see you, in Europe without a kid. If you’re quiet too long they’ll figure out you kept them, maybe even put it together with my absence.” 

Bucky was staring at him. “I can’t. I can’t just leave, what if something happens?”

“It’s worth the risk to plant a false trail; they may not be as established in Canada, but a with a full profile it’s only a matter of time until they track us down.” Bucky was frowning, clearly torn. Steve smiled crookedly. “I miss punching Nazis,” he lied. “I need to live vicariously through you.”

Bucky breathed out through his nose, still frowning, and opened his mouth to say something. 

“Pаpa?” Tanika was standing in the doorway, looking shocked. “You’re going away?”

Bucky looked at her in distress. “I don’t know sweetheart. What do you think I should do?”

“Stay forever!” She said fiercely, and Bucky’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, no, Nikki, it was only a few days!” He said, jerking to his feet. Tanika kept frowning, worrying her lip, wondering if he was telling the truth. “Dad and I were just discussing if I should go to France for a few days to hurt HYDRA. I would never leave you, my love.” He knelt down in front of her, looking pale at just the thought. 

She swallowed. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

She looked up at Steve. “Should I Ask him?”

“You can if you want to, baby,” he said, heart breaking. “But it would be a waste. You don’t ever need to doubt that we’ll be with you to the end of the line.” 

Tanika looked Bucky over shrewdly, and seemed to conclude he was right. “...hurt HYDRA?”

“Yes, Nik. It would help to keep you safe, and probably a lot of other people as well,” Steve replied.

She bit her lip. “Is it dangerous?”

Bucky shrugged. “Yes. I’ve done it before though.”

Tanika nodded, eyes hot and fierce in her face. “I want all of them dead.” Steve felt only righteousness in the face of this chilling creed. 

Bucky’s mouth firmed. “Then they will be.”

* * *

Bucky left that night, catching some insane schedule of flights to Europe. Steve had no idea how he got the arm through security, but then, he hadn’t asked. The bed felt very cold with just him in it, like those lonely days after being unfrozen. 

He kept the laptop by him at all times, but the chatter made no reference to the Winter Soldier. To distract himself from his worry Steve kept everyone busy, taking Tanika to the museum and pushing May around in her stroller. An uncomfortable number of mothers hit on him that day, despite Steve’s wedding band. By the end of the trip he and Tanika had devised a system; when he saw a woman approaching with  _ that  _ look in her eye he would squeeze Tanika’s hand and she would start peppering him with questions like  _ when was Pаpa coming home, _ and  _ was Papa bringing a gift for me,  _ and  _ what should we cook for Pаpa when he gets back?  _ Steve made a mental note to get a pride pin for the stroller. It couldn’t hurt. 

That night they made meatloaf, which reminded Steve of his childhood but Bucky couldn’t stand, and Steve let Tanika sleep in his lap while he watched nature documentaries until he was tired enough to sleep. And if he carried Tanika into his own bed that night, it was because he loved her, not to take up space. 

By the day before Bucky was due home Steve had become completely antsy. He flinched when cars drove into their street, and spent a really pathetic amount of time reading the silly science fiction books Bucky loved so much. Forcing himself to draw something, an activity which usually settled him down, Steve was completely unsurprised to find an image of Bucky taking shape on the page. It was a scene from before he left, Tanika curled on his lap as he read to her, his metal arm wrapped around her back, his eyes soft as he looked down on her. Steve recalled the last time he had drawn Bucky. It had been well before sunrise on a night where sleep wouldn't come. He’d rolled out of bed in frustration at some point, but not before looking down and seeing Bucky’s face, relaxed in sleep. He’d instantly needed to draw it. Less than an hour later Bucky had come out to join him, sitting next to him on the couch and resting his head on Steve’s shoulder as he’d watch him shade. When it was finished Steve had passed the book to him, and Bucy had brushed his finger across the line of his own jaw. They’d sat together like that as the sky slowly lightened, until eventually Bucky had taken his hand and tugged him back to bed, folding around him like he did sometimes. Steve had slept.

Swallowing back the memory Steve glanced up to see Tanika watching him from one of the armchairs. 

“I miss him,” she said, hugging her plush shark to her chest. “It’s different now.”

Steve felt his mouth twist as he fought back the unexpected prick of tears. “I know,” he said, because he did. They’d all grown into each other over the past months, and everything was wrong without him. He set his sketchbook aside and opened his arms, and Tanika crawled in, her head resting on his collarbone. She sniffled for a while, a calm, quiet sort of crying, and Steve pressed his face into her hair and held on. 

At some point she drifted off, and Steve used his spare hand to pull the laptop closer, checking for news of Bucky almost compulsively. It had become so haitual, in fact, that he didn’t even notice it when he saw it. 

There were the usual emergency messages that had dominated the channel since the day Bucky had struck, but it seemed someone had survived to tell the tale of what really happened.  _ Asset compromised.  _ Just two words, but they made Steve’s blood run cold. He scrolled through the feed looking for other, less explicit clues, and the picture that emerged frightened Steve to his very core. 

Bucky had gotten hurt. 

It didn’t say how bad, but Steve knew the Winter Soldier didn’t show weakness, so if someone had noticed—

Tanika mumbled in her sleep and Steve forced himself to calm down. He was a member of a team, and it was his job to stay solid for them. Bucky should be home by the next night, he just had to last until then. 

This train of thought sustained him all the way through dinner and putting a crotchety Tanika to bed, feeding and changing the baby and getting into his own pajamas. But as soon as he was alone in the dark Steve felt his blood pressure rise. After almost an hour digging his hand into his thigh to keep himself from picturing all the horrible situations Bucky could be in he finally gave up, switching on the lamp and searching for the tablet to while away the hours. 

But just as he was putting the earbud in, he heard it. Scrabbling for their most recent burner phone Steve almost tore the charger out of the wall with it in his haste.

There were two messages waiting for him.

_ Saw the intel. Don’t worry, I’m fine _

_ Getting on the plane soon _

Steve collapsed back into the pillows, almost light headed with relief.

**‘Not dead’ fine or ‘actually okay’ fine?**

_ Fine fine _

Steve growled, but the part of him that had moped like a dog when its owner left was ecstatic to be being teased again. 

**Asshole**

**You won’t be fine when I’m done with you**

_ Not very welcoming _

_ You didn’t pace the widow’s walk while I was away? _

**I was too busy weaving to stall my 108 suitors**

_ As you should _

_ Got to go _

**Night**

_ Goodnight _

And it was.

* * *

“Papaa-aa-aa-aa,” Tanika called through the window as she jumped up and down waiting for him to reach the door, fracturing the sound. She had been a nightmare for the past two hours in her excitement to see her father again, but she was too well trained to rush out into the dark with no cover. 

Steve stood behind her, a similar impatience in his breast. Bucky took his sweet time getting out of the cab, shouldering his duffle with a slight stiffness that made Steve’s heart clench. He barely made it through the door before Tanika was climbing him, snaking her arms tightly about her neck. Bucky dropped the bag and wrapped her up in his arms, hiding his face in her neck. She babbled on about all the things he had missed and how happy she was he was home, and Bucky just listened, humming responses into her skin and soaking her in. Steve had May in his arms, as he’d known Bucky would want to cling to the girls when he was back. After a few minutes with Tanika he dropped her onto her feet again, letting her hold his leg while he took the baby off Steve. He hadn’t made eye contact with him yet, dividing his attentions very strictly. Tanika kept up her chatter but didn’t begrudge it when Bucky stopped responding, his eyes going unfocused as he stared down at May, stroking down her nose and over her eyebrows with a tip of a finger over and over again. There was blood under his nails, Steve noticed, drinking in the sight of him being comforted by their daughters. 

He looked tired. There were dark shadows under his eyes, an exhausted tilt to his shoulders. 

“Papa has to go to bed after this, okay Nikki?” Steve told her. She pouted, but they’d already discussed that this was likely. After a few more minutes together Bucky went to put the baby in her crib in the nursery and Steve convinced Tanika to go wait for him in her bedroom. The sudden quiet when Bucky returned and looked at him froze the words Steve wanted to say in his throat. His medical condition and field report could wait. 

Steve hesitantly held his arms open. 

Bucky blew out a breath like he had been hit and stumbled forward, falling against Steve like he was the last port in a storm. Despite his obvious exhaustion he held Steve crushingly tight, and Steve returned the favour without regard for his injuries. Bucky didn’t seem to mind; he turned his face into Steve’s neck and just breathed there for along time. Steve realised he was shaking—he was just so damn glad to have Bucky back. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Bucky mumbled into his skin after a long time. Steve didn’t laugh. 

“Always come home, Buck. Promise.”

Buky held him somehow closer, as if he could pull him into his skin. “I promise.”

In the end Steve almost had to carry Bucky to their bedroom. The injuries turned out to be a bayonet wound to the shoulder, already mostly closed up, and a damaged knee. 

“Guess they thought I was dyin’ ‘cause of the limp and the sword stickin’ out of me,” Bucky slurred as Steve helped him out of his clothes. 

“Yeah, how dare they impugn your honour so. Being impaled is but a flesh wound,” Steve commiserated as he got him under the covers.

“Damn right,” Bucky mumbled into the pillow, and Steve couldn’t resist brushing a kiss across his temple before he left to read Tanika a story.

* * *

That night Bucky had a nightmare. 

Steve knew he had them occasionally. Probably more than occasionally, if he was being honest. But it almost never woke Steve up. He would simply roll over to find Bucky gone, off sweeping the perimeter or making a cup of tea. At first he would growl at Steve to go back to bed if he tried to interrupt this ritual, but eventually he started to allow himself to be comforted. Usually this took the form of sitting up together in silence, shoulders pressed bracingly together, Steve stealing sips of tea until Bucky pulled him back to bed. 

Not tonight, however. This one was more like one Steve’s nightmares; Bucky was sweating and hyperventilating, hand shooting out to grab something that wasn’t there. 

Steve grabbed his shoulder. “Buck? Bucky!” Bucky’s eyes flew open and he made a helpless sound. “Bucky it’s okay! You’re at home, safe. Me and the girls are safe too, they’re just next door asleep.”

“Steve?” Bucky choked, sounding terrified. 

“I’m here, I’m right here,” Steve said, rolling over fully to pull Bucky against his chest. He curled against him, breaths slowly evening out. “You’re home,” Steve whispered, hand in his hair. The last of the tension bled out of Bucky, and Steve closed his eyes. They both lay awake for a long time after that, weathering the darkness together.

* * *

At some point Steve must have fallen asleep, because the next time he opened his eyes there was sunlight streaming in through the window. He could still feel the weight of Bucky in his arms, and when he looked down it was to find those wintry eyes already watching him.

“Morning, Buck,” Steve whispered, smiling softly, still in the grip of sleep.

Bucky leaned forward and brushed his mouth against Steves in a sweet, gentle kiss. Steve sighed through his nose and pressed back. “Morning,” he said when he drew back, and rose to go and get the baby her breakfast. 

Steve stretched hugely and blinked himself the rest of the way awake, shuffling out of bed and following Bucky to the nursery. He could hear Tanika stirring in the next room as he leaned against the doorframe, watching Bucky cradle his daughter in the early morning light. He whispered to her in some language Steve didn’t know, the winter sun glinting off his arm where it held the bottle. 

Bucky was home.

* * *

“Have you seen the news?” Bucky asked as soon as he was in the door a few weeks later. 

“No,” Steve said curiously as he dumped the bags and came over to switch on the TV. Steve put down his sketch of Tanika in her tree, giving the TV his attention as Bucky scrolled through the channels. 

They didn’t follow the news that closely. Steve checked the headlines on his phone when he remembered, but the TV almost didn’t get used. Finally finding something Bucky threw himself onto the couch beside Steve, poking his feet so he’d give him more room. Steve kicked him.

“—begs the question, where is Captain Rogers?” Said a woman in a skirt suit.

“Exactly, Melissa,” another lady, this one blond, chimed in. “There has been a  _ ton  _ of speculation over the last few months as people began to notice Captain America’s absence. Now, Steve Rogers has always been tough to get ahold of—” 

“Man likes his privacy,” interrupted a man in a charcoal suit.

“He sure does. But when he didn’t show up for the incident in August people really started to wonder. But now we have unequivocal proof: Falcon has taken over as Captain America.”

“I think a lot of people are taking this as a sign that Cap’s dead. It’s certainly a possibility in my mind. I mean, what kinds of attacks and dangers do the Avengers fight that we  _ don’t  _ know about? Anything could have happened to him.”

“But why wouldn’t they just  _ say  _ that? ‘Cap’s given his life in the line of duty, again, but don’t worry, we’ll pass the mantle on to some guy off the street—’”

“It’s well known that Captain Rogers and Falcon were good friends. Perhaps he passed it on himself?”

“Can you just retire if you’re a superhero?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Opinion is strongly divided on the topic of the new Captain, but America is united in speculating what happened to the old.” The program cut to commercial on that beat, and Bucky switched it off. They both continued to stare at the dark screen.

“Good thing we live in Canada then,” Steve said after a pause. 

Bucky sighed tiredly. “People are going to be looking for you. And not just civilians.”

Steve closed his eyes. “I guess it’s time I went on a fieldtrip of my own,” he said wearily, a thought that had been weighing on him. Bucky’s hands clenched reflexively. 

“I think it’s a bad time for you to be wandering around looking like Captain America,” Bucky said, but his voice was resigned. 

“Well, maybe I’ll just throw a car at someone. Yell ‘God bless America’ while I do it. That’s gotta overrule the hair and beard.” Steve tried to inject some levity into the conversation, but he knew he’d missed the mark. Bucky still wasn’t looking at him. 

“When will you leave?”

“I dunno. Do we know the location of any sizable HYDRA bases?”

“I have a few pinned down.”

“Soon, then, I guess.” Bucky nodded. “Bucky, I—”

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky interrupted, and then looked up. When he saw Steve’s face his eyes softened. “It’s fine. It’s good. You’re keeping us safe.” He smiled. “And what kind of husband would I be if I got in the way of you punching Nazis?”

“Punching Nazis is the truest form love,” Steve agreed, tipping his head onto Bucky’s shoulder.

* * *

He didn’t end up leaving for two weeks. They didn’t want it to seem like an obvious misdirect in reaction to FalconCap’s debut. Thankfully the perfect opportunity arose in the form of a meeting to trade for alien weaponry with A.I.M., an exchange that could be devastating for the general populace. 

Luckily they were keeping it small, a secret even within the organisation. Only Bucky’s skills at hacking and familiarisation with HYDRA codes and software allowed them to uncover it.

He was only going to be gone for two days, the flight to California negligible though the drive to the base was long. He spent the day he left strangely anxious. Packing a bag with tac gear and medical supplies in preparation for a mission was a familiar task, but from a different lifetime. He was irrationally worried that if he left their paradisiacal bubble it would never be the same. 

He dragged his feet, but all to soon he was standing by the door, ready to leave. He held the baby to his chest, rubbing his face in her hair and getting drool on his collar as she babbled. Tanika had recently discovered comics and barely tore herself away long enough to squeeze him bruisingly around the ribs and give him an acorn for good luck. 

“See you in two sleeps!” Tanika exclaimed before burying herself back in her story, the baby held in her lap.

Steve looked at Bucky, smiling. “Do you think I should be offended?”

Bucky shrugged and stepped in close. “You could show her the Captain America comics if you’re jealous,” he suggested, eyes dancing. 

“Maybe I  _ will _ ,” Steve said, hands coming to rest on Bucky’s hips.

“She’d never take us seriously again,” he murmured, pushing his fingers into Steve’s hair. 

“Has she ever?” Steve whispered as they both leaned in. 

They hadn’t kissed since that one morning several weeks ago, but it was comfortable and familiar and right. Bucky’s mouth was yielding and soft, his hand cradling Steve’s head so they could get closer. Steve slid his arms around him and pulled their bodies into contact, sighing against his lips. He didn’t know how long they stood there, trading soft kisses, but it couldn’t have been long. Bucky drew back to whisper “cab’s here” without looking away. Steve kissed him again, firm and sure, and somehow tore himself away.

He grabbed his bag and opened the door, looking back. “Bye,” he said.

“Good luck, soldier,” Bucky teased fondly. 

“Bye!” Tanika squeaked with a wave. 

Steve had gone off to war once, but it hadn’t felt like this.

* * *

Steve climbed stiffly into his car, grimacing at the blood he was smearing on the seats. Rolling his neck he drove back towards the highway, the facility a smoking crater behind him.

He felt empty. The adrenaline that had buoyed him through the fight had drained away, and Steve was left with just the aches and pains of the mission. There had been a time he relished the hurts, prayed for a villain to land a proper hit—but now he couldn’t suppress a tired wince at the thought of the long trip ahead of him. 

The highway dragged on, mostly empty at this time of night, and Steve wondered at the fact that this used to be his life. It all felt so far away now, a distant, terrible dream. 

Five hours later Steve stumbled through the door, still bloody under his civilian clothes, feeling every one of his 95 years. 

Bucky met him at the door, eyes soft, silently taking his bag and pushing him through the darkened house to the bathroom. Steve cranked on the hot water without hitting the lights, too tired to be careful of his injuries as he stripped out of his clothes. 

Stepping under the water Steve braced himself against the wall and closed his eyes, ignoring the sting of the heat on his wounds and the dirt and blood swirling at his feet. 

He didn’t bother to open them when Bucky came back in, dropping clean clothes into the empty bathtub. He didn’t open them when Bucky’s own shirt hit the floor, followed by the rest of his clothes. He didn’t open them when the door of the shower opened, cool air rushing in to replace the steam. 

It made him all the more aware of the warm brush of a shoulder, the cool slide of metal and soap. He let Bucky wash him, body pliant, let him brush his fingers over the bruises and cuts. He touched too, palms smoothing across broad shoulders, stroking back hair that was still half dry. Their mouths met, slow and insistent, their bodies pressed together in every way. Even in the dark Bucky was beautiful; his solid, perfect body, decorated with white slashes of history. His grey-blue eyes, almost obscured by his blown pupils. His jaw, his hands, his perfect bow mouth. Steve felt him tremble for him, watched him go over the edge. When Steve followed seconds later, it was with his eyes open.

* * *

They fall quickly back into their rhythm after that. During the day they take the girls to museums and on hikes, Tanika ending up with the most outrageously eclectic education Steve could imagine; she could hotwire a bus, speak snatches of over thirty languages, slip a knife into someone’s brain, and dance a quickstep. Once the baby figured out how to make noises other than crying she never shut up, babbling and cooing and squealing, to Tanika’s eternal annoyance. The day she took her first steps Bucky cried and refused to admit it. 

The Neighbours—an abominable conglomerate dedicated to forcing Bucky to be social—gave them tips for things to do and showed up with food or alcohol on the weekends. Winnie and Nao would babysit when they needed a break to swear at a baseball game or to wipe a base off a map in Europe—and Steve had been shamefully grateful when Tanika had come back full of facts about sex.

Steve still went on solo trips to seed rumours about himself on the west coat, but it began to feel less like a cross to bear and more like a day job. Some mornings he lay awake listening to Bucky and Tanika making breakfast, the baby babbling to herself and the radio softly filling the gaps and wondered what he had done to deserve this as the rest of his life. 

Every day, when he rolled over to see Bucky watching him, when Tanika jumped on their bed to describe the dream she had, when May tested her lungs out from the nursery, Steve swore he’d do anything to protect this. 

But things were never that simple.

* * *

After putting Tanika down for her nap one day Steve was quietly sketching when he heard it; a creak, a tiny protest from the floorboard in the hall. His head whipped towards Bucky in the kitchen, who had already materialised a silenced gun. Pulling a knife from his belt Steve moved the same moment he did, leaping over the back of the coach and throwing the knife at the intruder’s head as Bucky spun into the living room to draw a bead between their eyes.

Anyone but Natasha would have a Benchmade through their temple, but as it was there was a flash of red and a  _ thunk  _ as it stuck in the drywall and then silence as they all froze.

“Hey boys,” Natasha said after a pause, straightening up smoothly, looking completely unruffled.

Steve was furious.

“Leave,” he barked, pointing to the door, not bothering to tell Bucky to drop his gun. His thoughts flashed to the painted walls in Tanika’s room. She was going to miss them. 

“Oh, come on, Rogers,” she said, smirking. “Aren’t you going to invite me for a drink?”

He stared at her. “You shouldn’t have pulled on this thread,” he growled. Something flashed in her eyes before being covered by her usual cool charm.

Bucky’s aim didn’t waver, but Natasha seemed unconcerned. She opened her mouth to say something but before she could the door behind her opened and Tanika stepped out. 

Steve felt everything him freeze in cold terror.

Her eyes went wide and she immediately slammed herself back in her room. The sound of her throwing open the window was clear in the silent room even to those without enhanced hearing, but Steve knew she was actually squeezing herself into the false drawer in her closet. Beside him Bucky carefully breathed out through his nose, terrified. 

Steve had never seen Natasha shocked before. Her mouth worked for a moment as she stared at the door, looking back at them with new eyes. Jaw firming she showed them her hands, holding them out steadily and facing Bucky, though her eyes stayed unwaveringly on Steve’s.

However she had found them it clearly hadn’t uncovered the presence of the children. Steve felt part of him relax. If it was just Natasha who knew, maybe this clusterfuck could be salvaged.

Steve should have known better.

His ears had barely caught the baby’s first gasping breath when he threw himself at Bucky, knocking him just enough that his bullet hit the wall next to the knife. A few locks of red hair fluttered to the floor amid May’s cries.

“Bucky!”

“We can’t let her live Steve!” Bucky yelled, twisting out of Steve’s grip.

“She won’t tell anyone, she’s—”

“She  _ knows!  _ How can we hide when _ — _ two white men with a Black girl and a baby is a fucking specific fucking description!” Steve went for the gun but Bucky’s metal arm pushed him back.

“You can’t just kill her!”

“They’ll never stop, Steve, you  _ know  _ that—” Steve could feel him trembling under his hands.

“I—Buck, I  _ trust  _ her, I trust her with my life—”

“And with our daughters’ lives?” He asked, voice breaking as he turned his wild eyes on him. 

Steve set his mouth. 

“I have a chip in my brain.” Natasha interrupted abruptly. They both looked at her. She was holding very still, hands still out.

“What?” Steve asked. Bucky’s breath hitched.

“I have a device in my brain, courtesy of the Red Room. It can’t be taken out without killing me, so I just killed everyone who knew about it. But if someone knew it was there—knew the frequency, the codes—they could kill me from anywhere in the world, or—turn me into a puppet.”

Steve stared at her in horror, but Bucky’s aim didn’t waver. 

“What are the codes?” He demanded immediately, voice hard. 

Natasha didn’t answer for a long moment. May continued to cry into the stillness of the house. 

“It’s made of vibranium, powered by the electrical impulses of the brain. The codes are 78275 and zik352952, in that order,” she said in a calm voice that very carefully did not tremble. 

Bucky stared at her for a long moment. Steve held his breath, watching hundreds of emotions chase each other across his face. 

Then he dropped the gun to the floor right there and walked away. 

“Квоффл.” He called into Tanika’s empty bedroom.

“Так точно,  Папа. ”

“You okay  Волчо́к ?” Steve heard him say, closing the door behind him. 

Steve didn’t look at Natasha, picking up Bucky’s gun to flick the safety on before heading to the nursery to scoop up May. “Shh, baby girl, sorry about the noise,” he murmured, stroking her fine hair as he carried her back out. He could hear Tanika refusing to finish her nap and preemptively got out a plate and cup.

“...you’re reading Harry Potter?”

Steve glanced up from where he was making a sandwich one-handed. His eyes flicked to Tanika’s door. “We let her choose the code phrases,” he said coolly, going back to his task. Natasha didn’t speak again, but one hand snuck out to hold the Nutella jar steady.

It was another couple of minutes before Tanika and Bucky returned. Steve wondered if Natasha had figured out it was Bucky who’d been being comforted in that time.

“Hi, I’m Tanika, nice to meet you,” Tanika said in a practiced singsong as she marched out of her room. 

Natasha smiled sweetly down at her, putting on a welcoming face. “Hi Tanika! I’m Natasha.”

Tanika eyed Natasha critically for a long moment. Steve wondered if he should feel guilty for instilling paranoia in such a young child. He didn’t. 

Tanika took a deep, familiar breath.

“Are—”

“ _ Tanika! _ ” “No!” Steve and Bucky shouted at the same time, Steve dropping the butterknife and Bucky jolting forward as if to clap a hand over her mouth. The baby startled hard at the noise and immediately began screaming, causing Tanika to cover her ears and glare at her.

“But P а pa—”

“Tanika! You  _ know— _ ”

“But I don’t trust her!”

“ _ Exactly! _ ” Bucky was kneeling on the floor, hands hovering over Tanika’s shoulders like he wanted to shake her, eyes wide and terrified. “You can’t—”

“We’re trying to keep you safe, baby girl,” Steve said firmly, ignoring the frantic pounding of his own heart as he tried steady the others. He had to raise his voice to be over the sound of May’s wailing. 

“I can help!” Tanika cried angrily, even as she wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck. 

“I know you can, baby, but this is the safest way. I’m sorry for shouting at you, though.”

“Sorry for shouting,” she mumbled, not looking like she agreed. Bucky’s arms had come around her tightly, though, and she huffed a breath and gave up. 

“Sorry for shouting,” Bucky said into her shirt. 

“I was going to let you have Nutella for your snack, since you were so good following protocol earlier,” Steve told her calmly. Tanika’s face lit up and suddenly all was forgiven. 

“Yes!” She shouted, wriggling out of Bucky’s arms and dragging herself onto the high barstool, shushing the baby loudly as she pulled her plate over. 

Natasha was still standing by the counter, taking all of this in with a carefully neutral expression. Steve couldn’t begin to guess what was going on in her head, but right now he had other things to worry about. 

Bucky pulled himself up off the floor and took the baby, whispering to her as he leaned against Steve, face hidden in her pale hair. 

“So how come you’re not at school, kiddo?” Natasha said once May had quieted somewhat. 

Tanika squinted at her, chewing suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said, tipping her head and smiling encouragingly. Steve was suddenly struck with the feeling Natasha had never spoken to a child before in her life.

“‘M not old enough yet,” Tanika lied around her sandwich.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full around company, Niks,” Bucky reminded her.

“Oh yeah.” Tanika swallowed but then immediately refilled her mouth. 

“And how old is that?”

Tanika’s chewing slowed. She looked over at Natasha and maintained eye contact, chewing as slow as she could, and taking a long drink of water after finally swallowing.

“None of your business.”

Steve cracked up, as he always did, and Bucky looked proud. Tanika shot them a grin, the tension bleeding out of the room. 

Natasha’s eyebrows were high. “You’re really something, kid.” 

“Something special,” Tanika agreed magnanimously. 

“I wasn’t fishing, you know,” Natasha said wryly. 

“Sure you weren’t,” Bucky muttered. 

She sighed. “I didn’t come to take you in, Barnes. And I can already see trying to convince Steve to come back wouldn’t work.” Her eyes softened. “No one else needs to know about the children. But you don’t have to stay totally isolated—surely you know you can trust Sam at least, if not me?”

“It’s not about trust,” Steve said, frowning. “I trust all of the Avengers, even if Bucky doesn’t. It’s about leaks.” He let out a frustrated breath. “We need to stay hidden at least another eighteen years. You found us in less than one. The more people who know, the less safe we are.”

“I like to think I’m a  _ little  _ more skilled than your average HYDRA agent.”

“You’re just one woman. HYDRA has thousands of eyes and petabytes of data. Besides,” Bucky said sharply, “we aren’t just worried about HYDRA.”

Natasha flicked a look at Steve. He looked back steadily.

“Okay, fine. Can I tell them you’re safe, at least?”

“And to stop looking.” Steve nodded.

Tanika slurped her water, watching the conversation carefully. 

“And what about me? Since I already know, and you’ve decided not to kill me, I might as well help you.”

Steve looked at Bucky. Having someone with resources on the outside would be immensely helpful. 

Bucky’s mouth tightened. Contact with the outside increased the chance of being discovered hugely, and it was clear he still didn’t trust Natasha. 

Steve frowned, convinced the tactical advantage was worth the risk—if they  _ were  _ found out, it would be much easier to deal with the fallout with Natasha in their corner. 

Bucky bit his lip, torn, and Steve felt his face soften. In the end Bucky sighed and nodded, tilting his head to rest on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Burner phones only. Bucky?”

“ 250-555-0118,” he rattled off the number for one of their own burners. 

“Say something from Harry Potter so we know it’s you,” said Tanika seriously. Bucky nodded and Steve smiled.

Natasha watched all this with a strange look on her face. “Understood. You know how to get onto me, if you need me.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I hope that was an offer to babysit.” Natasha looked horrified. “You have KGB torture training, you’d be fine,” he added, amused. 

“I’m an internationally renowned black ops agent, I don’t think you want me babysitting.”

Bucky looked incredulous. “Honey. Her father’s the Winter Soldier.” 

Natasha tipped her head, acknowledging his point. 

“I don’t want to be babysat by  _ her, _ ” Tanika said.

“No? You don’t think she’d be better at fighting off HYDRA than Winnie and Nao?” Bucky raised his eyebrows.

“Nao could hit them with one of his books!”

Steve laughed, but Bucky nodded seriously. “True, but Winnie shouldn’t be fighting while she’s pregnant.”

“Oh yeah!” Tanika nodded wisely. “Like because Dad had to lift that box for her.”

“Exactly,” Steve agreed. “But Natasha’s not pregnant. As far as I know.” Natasha cut him a look but Tanika was nodding again.

“So she can fight?”

“I’m not sure. You wanna try her?” 

Tanika thought about it. Shook her head. “No, I wanna watch Dora now—” And then her plastic cup was hitting the wall where Natasha’s head had been a millisecond earlier. Natasha blinked. 

“Her father really is the Winter Soldier,” she said over Steve’s laughter. Bucky smirked, finally relaxing a fraction.

“Good work, Nik.”

“But I missed,” she said grumpily. 

“Gotta train for more than a few months before you can nail Black Widow in the face, kiddo.”

Tanika’s mouth stretched into an O. “She’s  _ Black Widow? _ ” 

Steve smiled. “Yep.”

Tanika stared over at Natasha with whole new eyes, completely starstruck. 

“We’re big fans of the female Avengers in this house,” Steve informed a startled Natasha. 

“Oh, well. You should be.” She clearly didn’t know what to do with Tanika’s abrupt 180. 

Tanika nodded furiously. “Scarlet Witch is really  _ really _ cool too, but Black Widow fights, like—” Tanika threw a textbook jab over the counter and then slithered down off her stool to do a somersault across the carpet. “Black Widow!” She shouted as she sprung to her feet, kicking the air a few times. 

Natasha watched all this with a kind of nervous amazement. 

“You should see her when she rides on my shoulders,” Bucky said mildly, making Steve laugh.

Natasha slyly asked for a tour and then visibly regretted it when an adoring Tanika took her by the hand to show her herself. Eventually Natasha intimated that she should leave. Steve privately suspected she’d simply filled her child-interaction quota for the year, though he’d never get her to admit it. 

“Bye, Black Widow,” Tanika said mournfully.

“Goodbye, Tanika. Maybe we can organise a time to see one another again,” Natasha said pointedly. 

“We’ll see,” Bucky said with his arms crossed, every inch a dad.

“Let her hand go, Nik, I’m sure you’ll see her again soon. 

Steve had never been so unhappy to be right.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what that mess was but thank you for sticking through it. Next chapter's gonna be better--Action! Avengers! Assholes!
> 
> Next update's gonna be a bit longer of a wait, because I haven't written a single solitary word of it, but I'm excited for it so it's less likely I'll get stuck. Hopefully. We'll see. Then after that there's just the epilogue. wibvw;jdsvnalc why do i do this to myself
> 
> Once again please point out any embarrassing mistakes from a poor Australian writer. Y'all call it a stroller right? Not a pram?? Fuck
> 
> P.S. this fic takes place in Convenience Town, where they'll let you buy a house without a waiting period and move in the same day. How nice for me, a profoundly lazy writer.
> 
> Translations for mobile:  
> Quidditch  
> Affirmative, Papa  
> Little wolf (term of endearment)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update was also the result of me getting stuck and deciding to split the chapter. I'm becoming predictable. This thing is going quicker than I thought though, so I think the chapter count is still accurate. Depends on if the epilogue ends up its own chapter, I guess.

Steve was awoken by Bucky throwing himself out of bed, diving for his gun before he was fully aware. Aside from the rustle of sheets they both made no sound, and in the dark Steve could clearly see Bucky gesture for him to take the front. Heart in his mouth Steve crept through the hall, easily avoiding the floorboards that creaked, and crouched low to run through the living room. Putting his back to the plaster by the window Steve listened to Bucky tap a near-silent pattern onto the wall by Tanika’s head. Steve counted to three.

And threw himself through the window.

The rain of glass drew the fire of the full strike team assembled on his lawn in black tactical gear. Steve dove forward, dragging an agent in front of him to take the fire long enough for him to get two headshots in. He threw his human shield into the knot of agents, diving in to take them in close-quarters where he had the advantage. A bullet hit him in the shoulder, blood soaking through his white t shirt, and someone grazed his ribs with a knife. He ripped it out of their hand and introduced it to their brain. His body moved faster than his mind, getting off body shots and crushing guns with his bare hands.

Inside he could hear more gunshots, and May’s oddly muffled screaming. A shout from his left distracted him; in the second it took him to take in Jacob, clad in flannel pajamas and gripping his service pistol, Steve took a brutal hit to the face, the sound of his eye socket cracking reverberating through the bones of his skull. Somehow he subdued the last two men, but before they could even hit the ground Steve heard someone scream.

A man had dragged a heavily pregnant Winnie out of her house and onto the street, arm tight around her throat and the muzzle of his Skorpion pressed to her belly. She whimpered, snot running down her chin.

“Don’t move or she dies!” He said in a generically American accent. Steve trembled with rage but dropped his gun dutifully and held out his hands. The man turned to Jacob. “Bring us the children,” he barked.

“W-what?”

“ _Bring us the children or we’ll kill everyone on this str—_ ” The man stopped, head snapping back as a bullet hit him in the temple.

“Fuck you!” Zofia said, standing barefoot and sure in a nightgown behind him, handgun clenched in her steady hands.

“What’s happening!” Jacob shouted.

“Get everyone together,” Steve ordered. “Take them into the—”

He was interrupted by the sound of an explosion. He spun towards the house just in time to see the flash of blue light break all the windows. Distantly he heard himself scream, sprinting through the glass and diving back into the house before the sound had finished echoing. The hallway was littered with bodies, the walls full of bullet holes and the furniture all smashed. Steve could hear the sounds of screaming in the nursery and raced inside to see Bucky writhing on the floor, left arm blown completely off.

His cries echoed in Steve’s ears as he stared in horror at the agent in the exoskeleton standing over him, arm raised for a finishing blow. Sparks showered across the floor from the centre of Bucky’s ragged metal stump, his whole body bowing in agony.

Steve took a running leap and landed on the woman’s back, hands scrabbling for purchase on her throat. She grabbed at his arms but couldn’t dislodge him, instead choosing to slam him back against the wall. Steve could feel the plaster crumbling behind him, his ribs groaning in protest, but he didn’t let go. A pneumatically enhanced hand curled around the back of his neck and Steve braced himself for the throw. He landed on the dresser, splintering it into matchsticks.

“Where are the girls!” The woman roared, dragging him out of the debris with one hand. Steve threw his fist into her jaw but it rung out oddly, like she had metal in her bones.

“Fuck you!” He growled, using his weight as a lever to throw her through the window into the backyard. Like an enraged bull she dragged herself to her feet and charged back towards him—but before she reached the house her momentum was arrested, her expression frozen in surprise as blood ran from the hole between her eyes.

Bucky collapsed back onto his stomach, the gun falling from his numb fingers. Steve skidded to his knees by his side, rolling him over as gently as he knew how.

“Bucky?” Steve asked desperately, smoothing his bloody hair out of his face. “Bucky, are you—”

“I’m fine Steve,” Bucky said weakly, struggling to get his arm underneath him. “It’s just—ah!” A staticky buzzing caused Bucky to jerk like he’d been tasered. “Just the electrical feedback,” he groaned, sweat standing out on his pale brow. “I’ll be fine, just help me up.”

Steve didn’t believe him for one second, but they were out of options. Once Bucky was on his feet he managed to stay there, gripping the gun he’d lifted from one of the team. Together they hurried back to Tanika’s room.

Steve followed the sound of May’s cries to the bulletproof metal footlocker at the end of her bed. It was too heavy for even a supersoldier to lift, so Steve punched in their code and swung it open to reveal a shaking Tanika clutching the baby and knife.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steve said, helping her out.

“Time to go?” She asked softly, climbing onto Bucky’s back.

Steve settled the baby on his hip and touched Tanika’s curls, stealing a moment out of the chaos. “Yeah baby. Time to go.”

Stopping only to grab their go-bag from the master bedroom Steve led them out through the front door where the glass was thinnest. The Neighbours stood gathered on their front lawn, Nao clutching his trembling wife, Jacob on the phone, presumably to the police. When they exited all eyes turned to them, and Steve took a moment to consider how they looked.

Bucky’s bare chest was smeared with dirt and blood, his scars and metal stump fully on display, Tanika clinging to his back and a submachine gun clutched in his remaining hand. Steve’s own pajamas were hanging in torn strips, his shirt more red than white from the obvious bullet hole in the shoulder May rested on. They were all barefoot, surrounded by bodies. Steve saw Jacob’s grip tighten on his gun.

No one spoke. Steve strode across the lawn on tattered feet, dropping the duffle by the trunk of the car. Seeing no point in pretending anymore Steve used his free hand to lift the entire car to inspect the undercarriage for trackers, the baby still held in his other arm. Someone gasped behind him. After he dropped it Tanika hopped off Bucky’s back so he could sweep the interior, and Steve took the moment to turn towards their gathered friends.

They all watched him with identical expressions of fearful shock.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he told them in bitter regret. “I never meant to put any of you in danger.” Winnie choked mournfully.

“Clear,” Bucky said from behind and he had to turn away. He swiftly tucked May into her car seat while Bucky covered them before finally collapsing behind the wheel to speed out of the cul de sac and into the night.

* * *

They kept the car for less than fifteen minutes, Steve hotwiring an ancient Jeep while a starkly determined Bucky moved baby seat with one hand. They drove for almost an hour, taking a circuitous route to the border. At one point Steve pulled over into the trees and let Tanika stitch him up, everyone cleaning the blood off as best they could and changing into clean clothes from the duffle. They made it across the border soon after, driving until dawn with Bucky shivering in the passenger seat and trying to hide it. Steve concentrated on the road to keep himself from panicking. As dawn began to lighten the horizon Steve pulled into a field in the middle of nowhere and killed the engine.

“Tanika. Pass me the phone from the bag, please,” he said into the quiet. Bucky watched him, eyes shadowed in his pale face, and didn’t argue as Steve called the only number in there.

“Rogers,” Natasha said sharply, picking up on the second ring. “The VPD are at your house.” Her voice was hard.

“We need an extraction and a safehouse, and—Natasha, we need Tony, but you can’t assemble the Avengers, you can’t tell everyone—”

“What’s your location?” She interrupted, which was her way of agreeing.

Steve blew out a relieved breath and told her the coordinates, and she hung up without another word.

Meanwhile Tanika had unbuckled herself and crawled into Bucky’s lap. Tossing the phone into the cup holder Steve turned in his seat to tug Bucky’s head against his chest. This close he could feel the tiny tremors running through him constantly, feel his t shirt already sticking to his back with sweat. Stroking his fingers gently through his hair Steve dropped a kiss on the top of his head, soothing him as best he could. Tanika hummed something quietly, bracing her feet against Steve’s thigh to push herself firmly into Bucky, grounding him. The baby happily babbled to herself in the back seat.

They stayed like that for almost an hour, not moving but for Bucky’s occasional violent spasms, until suddenly there was a bright flash and a black triangular UFO appeared next to their car. Jerking out of the embrace Steve grabbed his gun and scrambled out, reaching the craft just as the hatch swung open. A man in a flight helmet stuck his head out and calmly said “Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.”

Steve lowered the gun.

Bucky must have heard, because a moment later the car door opened, and everyone was trooping across the field to pile into the aircraft like it was just another car change. Tanika didn’t look impressed by the jet, carrying the baby on like she did this every day. Steve took the bag from Bucky before he went up the ramp, and Bucky snatched the gun off him to point at the pilot again.

“I’m sitting up front with you,” he growled and the pilot shrugged unconcernedly.

There were only four seats in the jet anyway, so Steve buckled himself and Tanika into the back and cradled the baby carefully against his chest as the craft lifted into the air vertically with barely a sound.

Tanika rested her head on his shoulder and took a nap as they raced over fields and mountains faster than even the Avengers’ quinjet. The pilot seemed happy to ignore the gun pointed at him, so Steve didn’t bother to fight Bucky on it. He was looking a little more with it than he had in the car, but Steve knew it was an act.

Barely more than an hour later Steve glanced out the window to see the familiar shapes of New York appearing out of the clouds as they lost altitude. Steve watched, conflicted, as New Jersey rose to meet them.

The cloaking tech on the craft must have been incredible. Steve watched as the skimmed over trees and street lamps without turning a single head. Finally the jet came to a hover over a small park, landing so softly the leaves didn’t stir.

“There’s a car waiting for you in that lot,” the pilot pointed, “plate number K42-E9A.”

Steve thanked him awkwardly, gathering the children off the jet knowing Bucky wouldn’t lower the gun until they were clear. The park was mostly empty, and nobody seemed to notice the four of them disembark out of thin air. Now that they were outside it with the stealth on the craft was only a ripple in the air. Under other circumstances Bucky would have been in awe.

A piece of paper on the dashboard of the car revealed an address, written in familiar handwriting beneath the phrase гремучая ива. It didn’t have seats, so Tanika buckled in normally and Bucky cradled the baby so carefully in his arm. Steve was torn between conflicting instincts; to drive slow and safe for the baby and to rush towards help for Bucky as fast as he could. It took more self-control than Steve would have liked to admit to choose the former option. It took the better part of an hour for them to reach their destination, and by the time they arrived Bucky was shivering visibly in his seat. Throwing himself out of the car Steve slung the duffle over his shoulder and hurried around to take the baby from Bucky, pulling his arm around his shoulder to drag him to his feet. Bucky leaned heavily against him, exhausted. Tanika let herself out and grabbed onto Bucky’s belt, eyes wide.

Together they shuffled up the driveway to the safehouse, a suburban home outwardly identical to the rest on the street.

They reached the door and Steve took a deep breath. There was no place else to go but forward. Bucky released his shoulder, determined to meet them on his feet.

They walked through the door.

Natasha, Clint and Tony stood in the foyer, waiting. It was immediately apparent that Natasha had not briefed them. Clint blinked in shock and Tony’s mouth dropped open, eyes bugging out.

“ _Steve?_ ” Tony gaped.

“What the _fuck,_ ” Clint barked, bowstring gripped tightly but not yet raised toward them.

“We need your help,” Steve said, setting his jaw like Captain America.

Before anyone could respond Bucky fell heavily to one knee, a shower of sparks raining from his ruined shoulder.

“Pаpa!” Tanika cried in alarm, hands flying to his shoulders.

“ _Papa?_ ” Tony said faintly.

“What the fuck,” Clint said.

“ _Tony,_ ” Steve said, arm tightening around May. He was fully prepared to beg if he needed to.

“Fuck,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “You want me to fix the Winter Soldier’s robo arm? Is that it? You show up out of the aether after more than a year with a fucking _baby_ asking me to help the guy who killed my parents?!” His voice rose in volume and pitch, beginning to sound a little hysterical.

“I’m asking you to save my husband.” There was no point pretending it was anything else.

“What the _fuck_.” Clint was probably the smartest of all of them.

Tony just looked even more speechless.

“ _Tony._ ” Natasha’s voice cracked like a whip. “In or out. We need to know _now._ ”

Tony stared at them; Bucky panting into Steve’s hip as he leaned against him to stay upright, Tanika curled protectively around him and glaring at everyone. Steve looked helplessly at him across May’s head.

“Please.”

Tony twitched. “Fine!” He said, throwing his hands in the air, not able to cover how his voice cracked. “I’ll have a look at it! God, there had better be liquor in this safehouse.”

But Steve’s attention had already shifted.

“Clint, you need to dump the car. Get back as fast as you can, I want your eyes on the perimetre.” Clint snapped his mouth shut and nodded seriously, responding to Steve’s orders as if nothing had changed. “Natasha, does anyone else know?”

“Not a soul,” she reported, eyes taking everything in as usual.

Steve would just have to trust her. “Okay. Tony, where do you need us?”

“Hang on hang on. You’re not going to explain the _kids?_ ” Tony cried, Clint pausing on his way out the door.

Steve paused and looked down at Bucky. “They’re our daughters,” he said simply. Tony looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Clint seemed to realise it wasn’t the time, slipping out to complete his objectives.

“ _‘Our’—_ are you kidding me?! You’re really going to—” Tony squeaked, hair standing on end where he’d dug his fingers into it.

“Lab’s through there,” Natasha cut him off, pointing at a door. Steve bent to help Bucky stand, but when they moved to enter the room Bucky stopped. Steve looked down to see Tanika with both hands fisted in his shirt, refusing to move, staring at Tony distrustfully.

“It’s okay, Niks,” Steve gentled her. “Tony’s our friend.”

“If he’s our friend, why haven’t I met him before?” She demanded, looking away from Tony to stare Steve down.

“You know why, Nikki,” Bucky said quietly. Tanika screwed up her face.

“But—”

“Papa’s arm is hurting him a lot, baby,” Steve said to Tanika, hoping his friends would take the hint. “And there’s nowhere else we can go to get it fixed.”

Tanika scowled but her nerves were obvious. “You can fix Papa?” She demanded, turning to face Tony, acting about ten feet tall as usual.

“Uh,” said Tony, and Steve could feel the tremor in Bucky’s remaining hand where it lay against his chest.

“Yes,” Natasha said firmly, looking Tanika right in the eyes. “He can.” Tanika stared at Tony at hard as she could, and really—it should have looked ridiculous, a tiny girl staring down a fully grown man, but it didn’t.

He cracked first.

“Yes, okay, yes, I can fix it. I’m used to taking orders from Rogerses by now, I’m good at it, look at me following orders—” and led them into the lab.

Easily taking Bucky’s weight with his free hand Steve helped him into the sitting-room-cum-workshop, getting him settled in an armchair next to a half-assembled alien reactor. Tony was muttering to himself as he rummaged in the draws of a sideboard, pulling out tools and wires seemingly at random. Natasha followed them in, closing the door behind her and taking up position on the far wall, which afforded her a view of all the windows and doors. Steve shot her a grateful look.

“Alright, okay, this is probably going to hurt so try not to kill me, okay Terminator?” Tony said as he made his way over to crouch at Bucky’s side.

Bucky, slumped and trembling in the floral wingback, still managed an icy glare that would have terrified a lesser man.

No one had ever accused Tony Stark of having a sense of self-preservation, however. He immediately stuck a narrow screwdriver into the bundle of stripped wires hanging from the socket and Bucky’s back arched in agony as he bit off a choked whimper. Steve hastily shrugged the duffle off and knelt beside him, gripping Bucky’s hand in his free one. Bucky clung weakly, setting his teeth against the pain.

“Papa?” Tanika asked fearfully, and Bucky tipped his head in her direction.

“‘Sokay, Niks. I’m good.”

Her mouth trembled. “He’s hurting you.”

Bucky opened his mouth to answer but had to snap it shut against a cry as Tony clanged against something inside him.

“He’s fixing him, baby,” Steve reassured her, wishing he had a free hand to hold her with. She shook her head and glared at Tony.

“I don’t like him.”

“It’s just like getting your shots, Nikki, remember?” Bucky rallied enough to say, though his eyes didn’t open again. “That hurt, but it wasn’t the doctor’s fault, was it?” Steve saw Tony blink in surprise and shoot Bucky and Tanika a look before getting sucked back into his work.

Tanika relaxed a bit, though she was still upset. “I guess,” she mumbled begrudgingly. “Are you going to cry?”

“Maybe,” Bucky said. “Don’t make fun of me if I do, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, and Steve hid his tearful smile against May’s head.

The whole thing only took about five minutes, but each tense second seemed to drag on, Bucky occasionally unable to suppress a distressed noise. Finally, though, Tony found what he was looking for.

“There you are, you little sucker,” he said distractedly, biting his tongue as he twisted his tools. “Brace yourself,” he told Bucky before jerking something out with the pliers. Steve carefully breathed through the pain as Bucky broke one of his fingers, watching in anguish as Bucky screamed through his teeth—and then it was over. Bucky collapsed back into the chair, boneless, the hum of static Steve hadn’t even realised he was hearing leaving a ringing absence. Tanika’s eyes were wide, and the second Tony stepped back she dragged herself into Bucky’s lap, curling against his heaving chest. Steve felt like a miserable parent for ignoring the baby’s startled cries, but for a moment he couldn’t do anything more than rest his forehead against Bucky’s shoulder and breathe.

“Well, enjoy not being constantly electrocuted directly in the spine, Robocop. I accept Discover and American Express,” Tony sniped from beside their little knot. Steve raised his head.

“ _Thank_ you, Tony,” he said, pouring every once of the gratitude he felt out for Tony to see. Tony flinched, looking torn between snapping and deflecting.

“Yeah, whatever, you’re welcome,” he said, striding back towards the kitchen and the alcohol.

“Thank you, Tony,” Tanika echoed dutifully without being prompted, though she clearly didn’t mean it. Bucky snorted and praised her manners without opening his eyes and the flush of fondness that inspired shook Steve out of his stupor. Raising Bucky’s hand to his lips Steve gave it a quick kiss before shaking free, wincing at the rush of blood to his damaged pinkie. Turning to the bag Steve dug out a teething rattle and stuck it in May’s mouth, jiggling her on his hip.

“Theeeere you go, Killer,” Steve said as she untangled her fist from his hair to grab the handle and was immediately distracted from her fussing.

“That is never not going to be weird,” came Clint’s voice from behind them.

“Is the perimbeter secure?” Tanika asked him seriously, using her own unique pronunciation.

He blinked. “Okay, no, it’s not weird at all, that’s definitely your daughter.”

“It’s rude not to answer when someone asks you a question,” Bucky warned, mouth curling up out of Clint’s view.

“Yeah, the… this house has cameras and proximity alarms, I just went and checked them all,” Clint said, glancing between Steve and Tanika like he didn’t know who to give his report to. Steve shared an amused look with Bucky—so far none of the Avengers had shown any comfort around children.

“Hey Clint, could hold the baby for a second I need to—”

“Oh no, no way, I love you Cap and I’ll follow your orders in the field but I’m not holding that thing for love or money.”

“You calling my daughter a thing?” The Winter Soldier asked, tipping his head backwards over the edge of his seat to stare at Clint upside down.

“Okay, whoa, calm it with the murder eyes, I just meant I’d probably _drop_ it, you know—”

“Calm down Clint, he’s only teasing you,” Natasha said smugly from her post against the wall. Clint stared at her like she was insane.

“Oh, Nat, could you hold her then? I really—”

“Not a snowflake’s chance in hell, Rogers,” she said archly.

“Tony?” Steve called into the next room.

“I don’t do kids, Capsicle, but thanks anyway.” Bucky chuckled tiredly and Clint and Natasha both cut him a surprised glance, though Natasha hid hers well. Steve supposed they’d never seen the Winter Soldier laugh before.

“Okay, so you want the good news or the bad news?” Tony said as he strode back in with an impressively full glass of scotch.

“Good news,” Tanika demanded imperiously from Bucky’s lap.

“O…kay, well, the good news, Mini Me, is that medically, your daddy is fine.”

Tanika glanced over at Steve in confusion. “Yeah, I know.”

“No, your _other_ —are you fu—joshing with me right now? The one you’re sitting on, that one, he’s fine.” Tanika made _are you okay_ eyebrows at him like he was crazy. Tony threw his hands in the air and turned to Steve. “The bad news is if he wants another arm he’ll have to come to the Tower, I can’t do experimental spinal surgery alone in a four-bedroom in New Jersey.”

“No,” Steve vetoed instantly. “They found us once when we were in deep cover, the Tower is exactly where they’ll look next.”

“Who is ‘they’, you haven’t even told us what happened yet—”

“There’ll be time for that when I know we’re safe—”

“There’s four and a half supers in this place, I think we can protect _two kids_ —”

“Maybe _I_ don’t think so—”

“ _Stop shouting!_ ” Tanika yelled, jumping to her feet on the armchair and almost standing on Bucky’s balls. When everyone glanced at her she raised a finger to her lips. “Shhhhhhhh!” She said, a little wetly.

“Maybe I could make the call, seeing as it’s my arm?” Bucky suggested mildly, a steadying hand around Tanika’s waist. Steve felt the fight go out of him instantly.

“Of course, Buck,” he murmured, annoyed at himself for falling back into old patterns with Tony so quickly. Tony narrowed his eyes, still seething. Tanika looked at him pointedly and Steve pouted. “Do I have to?” She nodded firmly. He turned back to Tony. “I’m sorry for shouting at you, Tony.” He glanced back at Tanika who rolled her eyes and flung her hands in the direction of Tony’s gaping mouth. “We were attacked only a few hours ago. I was scared,” Steve elaborated begrudgingly. Tony blinked at him for a moment, before offering an uncomfortable shrug, the wind taken out of his own sails.

“That’ll do I _guess,_ ” Tanika said, flopping down into Bucky’s lap. Steve squinted at his husband, who was not even trying to pretend he wasn’t laughing at him.

“Hey, don’t look at me, you’re the one that wanted to teach her manners.”

“You wanted us to live in the woods and train her to be the perfect predator.”

“And?” He’d married an asshole.

Steve shook his head and reluctantly allowed the conversation to grow serious. “You know that’s where they’ll look for us.”

“I know. But I can’t protect you without an arm.” Bucky’s eyes were steady. “I’ll go alone—”

“You walk into that tower without me, someone’ll have you in a cell in thirty seconds,” Steve said firmly. “No way are we splitting up.”

“I resent that you think I’d let them lock your boyfriend up, Cap,” Tony quipped, sounding like he was burying genuine hurt.

“Husband. And it’s not you I don’t trust with him, it’s SHIELD—or, what’s left of it.”

Tony frowned, but Natasha and Clint shared a look that suggested they agreed with Steve.

Bucky noticed. He blew out a breath. “Fine. We’ll lay low for a while, and then go together.”

“We’ll need Bruce,” Natasha warned him. Bucky flinched.

“...Steve trusts you all,” he said after a tense pause. “And he’s an idiot who trusts anyone, but.” He glanced at Steve. “I guess I can trust him one more time.”

Steve couldn't have hidden the fond smile that spread across his face even if he had wanted to.

“Okay, yeah, husbands, got it,” Tony muttered into his drink.

“If we’re bringing Bruce into it, did you want to call him? I only want to have to tell our story once.”

Tony shrugged and waved at the back wall. After a moment a glowing blue square filled the blank space. “Call Bruce,” Tony told it, and the room began to ring. Steve got to his feet, May still on his hip, and took Bucky’s hand in his own broken one again. Tanika twisted in his lap to view the screen as it suddenly switched over to a view of the lab in Avengers Tower.

“Hey, Tony,” came a familiar voice from offscreen. “Something I can help you with?”

“Well, not me so much,” Tony said. “I got something you might want to see.”

“Hang on,” Bruce said, and there was a rustle and a clank and then he rolled onto the screen in a desk chair, pushing a pair of safety goggles to his forehead. “What’s up—oh.” Bruce took in the living room on his screen, the Avengers loitering around the edges and Steve’s family almost centre frame. He blinked.

“Hey Steve,” he said politely after a long moment. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Bruce,” Steve said honestly. “I’d like you to meet my husband Bucky and our daughters Tanika and May.”

“Hi.” Tanika waved politely. Hesitantly Bruce waved back, seemingly lost for words.

“How have you been?” Steve asked, but Tony waved it away.

“No, nope, no time for that. Now that we’ve got all the terrestrial Avengers together let’s get on with the explanations, shall we?”

“Uh.” Steve tried to gather his thoughts.

“After D.C. I spent all my time blowing up HYDRA bases.” Bucky spoke without hesitation. “In one I found the kids, being held captive. I got hurt pretty bad, and I knew I could go to Steve, so I did. We couldn’t trust anyone else with the girls because of their powers—”

“Powers?” Tony perked up. “You didn’t mention powers, what powers?”

“Secret,” Tanika told him archly.

“Secret,” Bucky agreed.

“So we took them and went into hiding,” Steve finished. “Only today—”

“They found us.” Bucky’s voice was like gravel. Steve brushed another kiss across his hand.

“They found us,” he confirmed.

“HYDRA?” Natasha asked sharply.

“Don’t know. HYDRA, the Russians, the U.S. government.” Steve shrugged. “Could have been anyone.”

Clint was watching Natasha’s blank face worriedly, and Bruce looked out of his depth—though that was typical for him. The air in the room was tense, even the baby pausing her gnawing.

Tony didn’t seem to notice. “Where even _were_ you?” He demanded. “Fucking _Iowa?_ ” Clint made a face at him and May giggled.

“Canada.” Natasha corrected, posture relaxing as her eyes sparkled deviously. “Vancouver.”

Tony’s eye twitched. There was a brittle silence.

It didn’t last. “ _Canada?_ ” His voice cracked. “ _Captain Canada?_ ”

“Hey, I left Cap here, with the baseball and the apple pie where he belongs,” Steve protested, badly suppressing a smile as the tension in the room evaporated.

“But—You can’t—It’s a _monarchy!_ ”

“I’ve fought alongside the Commonwealth many times, Tony.”

“You were born on the _fourth of July! In New York City!_ ”

“And?” Bucky was smirking as he watched this unfold. Steve winked at him.

“I could have accepted Mexico, Thailand, fucking _Liechtenstein_ , but _Canada?_ ”

Steve shrugged because he knew it would infuriate Tony. “I like hockey.”

“No, no, this isn’t right, that’s too far, Captain America cannot like _hockey_ , the children is one thing but this is beyond the pale, I need a fucking _ocean_ of scotch, I cannot believe—”

After that very little planning got done, beyond Steve and Bucky agreeing to spend the night in the safe house while Tony and Bruce doctored footage to misdirect their pursuers.

The stress of the day was obviously weighing on Steve’s family. Bucky distracted a crabby Tanika with cereal long enough for Steve to feed May some toast fingers and change her diaper. Natasha had disappeared somewhere (presumably to avoid being roped into childcare), but Clint and Tony both watched them with a sick fascination that made Steve want to laugh. Once May was settled in her popup bed Steve bullied Bucky and Tanika into taking a nap together and collapsed into a chair to tape his finger.

Once it became clear the kids were out of the picture for the moment Natasha reappeared by his side. She handed him an ice pack silently and sunk into the chair opposite. Steve braced himself.

“You’re not coming back.” He watched her through narrowed eyes. Natasha breathed in a way that would have been a sigh on anyone else. “You did a lot of good, you know.”

Steve glared. “What did I do then that I’m not doing now?” He asked harshly. “Protect people? Like protecting my family doesn’t _count_. Save lives? I’ve saved more giving HYDRA’s money away than I ever did Avenging. Kill?” Steve’s mouth twisted bitterly. “I still kill.”

Natasha didn’t answer. His anger went cold and he sagged under the weight of it.

“I missed you,” she said at last.

Steve thunked his head against the chair back. “I missed you too.” He swallowed. “All of you.”

Natasha smiled sadly. “No you didn’t.” Steve looked away. “It’s okay, Rogers. It’s nice to see you happy. It gives me hope.” Natasha stood. “One week,” she said, referring to their plan to visit the Tower.

Even sitting down Steve was still almost her height when he wrapped his arms around her in a strong embrace. She just stood and took it for a moment, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders before sliding around to hold him back. She smelled like herself under the perfume and shampoo, and Steve finally allowed himself to be truly happy to see her.

“Maybe you missed me a little,” she teased, and Steve thought he’d honestly surprised her. He squeezed her too tight for a moment in retaliation, and she whacked him on the head. Her smile when he released her was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck clint’s family, this is 616 hawkeye and the mcu can eat my hearing ass.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Translation: Whomping (literally "rattlesome") Willow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the wait, everyone. I just got out of an eight year relationship and had to move out of the home I'd been living in for four years, leaving my cats behind. It's been. Rough. 
> 
> But at least I got this finished, _somehow_ , I honestly have no idea how. It probably needs more proofreading, I'm completely exhausted right now, but fwbflisDUHVKjetgef. Tomorrow. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, and thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me through the earlier chapters. Y'all are the real MVPs.

 

“Here you are,” Tony said as the doors of the elevator slid open. “The whole floor is yours.”

“The whole floor?” Steve asked in astonishment.

“Steve.” Bucky nudged his arm and pointed at the prints on the wall; vintage Captain America propaganda.  

Steve blinked. “Is...  _ all  _ this furniture period?”

“I told you he’d like it!” Tony exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Natasha. She rolled her eyes.

“You built this for me?” Steve asked, bewildered. 

“Tony’s got a floor for each of the Avengers,” Bruce told him awkwardly. 

“He was planning on inviting you that night you didn’t come to dinner.” Natasha looked at him pointedly, and Steve had to look away. 

“That’s… that was very nice of you, Tony.”

“Dad, let go, I wanna  _ see _ ,” Tanika said, leaning her full weight against the hand holding hers. 

“Sorry honey,” Steve said, letting her go distractedly as he turned back to Tony.

“How long until you can fix Bucky’s arm?” He asked the question he knew was burning his husband up.

“Oh, whenever really. Now? We can do it now. Or, in ten minutes, anyway. Same thing. You want now?”

“I want now,” Bucky confirmed, his dry tone somewhat undercut by his palpable eagerness. 

“Okay, good, I was hoping you’d say that. JARVIS? Get the room ready, will you? Highest security level and all that.”

“Certainly sir.”

“Daddy! Come look! Come  _ look! _ ” Tanika squealed, her forehead pressed against the fully glass wall. 

“It’s pretty high, huh?” Steve said, wandering over.

“ _ Come look! _ ”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming, _bossy_ _boots_ ,” Steve complained teasingly, lifting her onto his hip for all she was getting too big for it.

“Nooo, Dad,  _ look, _ ” Tanika said, squirming and pointing.

“I’m looking! It’s seriously high, isn’t i—” 

Steve froze as something red, white and blue swooped past the glass. 

“Falcon!” Tanika declared, waving both her arms. 

“Oh dear,” came Natasha’s voice from behind them. 

Steve watched as Sam caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and came back for a proper look. His hand came up to wave at the excited fan—and then knocked into the window as his misjudged his trajectory, too busy staring at Steve through the glass. Steve couldn’t see his eyes through the goggles, but his mouth was open in shock. 

Before he had time to react Sam dropped into a dive, disappearing from sight as he headed for the ground. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked in concern. 

“I think we’re about to have company,” he replied shakily. 

“What? Who? And how would you know, it’s  _ my _ tower—”

“I’m afraid Captain Rogers is right,” JARVIS interrupted Tony. “Mr. Wilson is currently on his way up via elevator 12.”

Bucky crossed to where Steve still stood holding Tanika. His tight grip around May’s back indicated his fear but his eyes were concerned for Steve. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked softly, Tanika looking between them with a frown. 

“I—I missed him,” Steve avoided the question, unease roiling in his gut. Bucky clearly saw right through him, but they didn’t have a chance to discuss it any further.

The elevator doors slid open and Captain America stepped out, his goggles pushed up and the shield dangling by his side. He took in the tight little knot of Steve’s family clustered by the window, seemingly not even aware of the other people in the room. 

“Falcon! Hi!” Tanika squeaked, vibrating with excitement but obeying the unspoken order to stay put coded in Steve’s crushing hold.  

The greeting seemed to shake Sam out of his paralysis. “Hi there,” he said in his superhero voice. “What’s your name, little lady?”

“Nikki!” She replied, her training holding even in the face of hero-worship. 

“Hi Nikki.” He smiled. “How are you enjoying the Tower?”

“Uh, it’s biiiiiiiiig,” Tanika replied seriously, and Sam laughed. The familiar sound made Steve want to hide.

“It sure is. Seems like you know my friend Steve there, Nikki.”

“ _ Yeah, _ ” she said like it was obvious, which in fairness, it was.

“And how’s that?”

“He’s my  _ dad _ ,” she said, not above sassing even her heroes. God she was going to be a menace as a teenager, Steve thought, swallowing. Bucky leaned his broken shoulder against Steve’s, shoring him up. Sam’s breath caught at Tanika’s explanation, taking in Bucky’s act of comfort with wide eyes. 

“Your dad, huh?” He asked unsteadily. “This is your family? You wanna introduce me to them?”

Tanika flicked Bucky a look and he gave her a tight nod—tacit permission to tell the truth. 

“This is my Dad, Steve, and my Pаpa, Bucky, and my sister, May,” she said politely, kicking her feet where she still hung braced against Steve’s hip. 

Sam nodded, breathing in a deep breath through his nose. He straightened and finally met Steve’s eyes. 

“You better have had a damn good reason for not telling me.” 

Steve swallowed, but held his gaze. “I had three.”

Sam looked around at his family and his shoulders slumped. “Well. I guess I can’t argue with that. Is there a reason  _ they  _ got to know before me, though?” Sam jerked his thumb at the watching Avengers. Natasha had her arms crossed and her expression schooled into blankness, Bruce looked supremely uncomfortable and Tony was filming on his Starkphone. 

“Romanov figured it out herself,” Bucky answered. “And we needed the other two for this.” He inclined his head to indicate his missing arm. 

“Yeah dude, how’d that happened?”

“Some big dramatic HYDRA snatch and grab,” Tony replied, gesturing grandly with his phone. 

“We don’t know it was HYDRA,” Bucky reminded him. 

“Seems like they’d try harder to keep you in one piece if they wanted you that badly, “ Sam observes.

“It wasn’t Bucky they were after,” Steve tells him heavily. “It was the girls.”

Sam blanched, but before he could ask Tony interrupted again. 

“Yes, and it’s all very evil, but I was kind of hoping to get some groundbreaking surgery in before I died of old age, you know how it is.”

“I’m older than you are,” Bucky said mildly, but he did turn back towards Steve with a question in his eyes. 

“I’ll be fine,” Steve said, finally letting Tanika down so he could take the baby. She immediately ran over to Sam to pepper him with questions, and Steve took the opportunity to brush the hair back from Bucky’s face and meet his doubt with a reassuring look. “Don’t keep Tony waiting, he’ll get bored and put a rocket launcher in your pinkie.”

“I’m offended you don’t think I’ve already done that, Rogers.”

Bucky huffed and nudged Steve’s forehead with his own before making his way over to the elevators. He smoothed Tanika’s curls as he passed her, and Steve saw Sam watch it all assessingly.

Natasha huffed a great sigh as Bruce and Tony followed Bucky out. “Come on Nik. If you leave Falcon alone for a little bit I’ll teach you some ballet, how’s that sound?” Her tone was welcoming for all she looked like she was walking the plank. Tanika looked at Steve, conflicted.

“Go on baby, he’ll still be here when you get back.” She bit her lip but followed Natasha deeper into the apartment, glancing back at Sam longingly. 

Steve offered Sam a tentative smile. “She may never forgive me for making her choose between her two favourite Avengers.”

“The Black one and the girl one?” Sam asked, voice carefully light as he made his way over. 

“That’s it.” Steve watched him approach awkwardly. “Sam, I—”

“Nuh uh, Mr. Emotionally-Constipated. Hug first, talk later,” Sam said and then pulled Steve into a strong embrace. 

They’d never really done this, but having kids had made him cuddlier, and the second Sam’s arms came around him Steve found himself hugging back fiercely. 

“We can talk more about it later, but—you been good?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah,” Steve choked into his shoulder. “Yeah, Sam. I’ve been real good.”

* * *

Bucky’s arm was healing well, and he seemed content to stay at the Tower until it was completely functional. They were rarely left alone—Steve was perversely grateful to The Neighbours for acclimatising Bucky to social interaction, because there seemed to always be an Avenger hanging around their floor wanting to catch up. Tanika soaked up the attention—despite no one but Sam bothering to hide how uncomfortable the children made them—but Steve was beginning to feel a bit like a zoo animal. A video of Steve lifting the armchair where Bucky was reading to May so Tanika could reach her action figure had been playing on a loop on their refrigerator and Stark wouldn’t turn it off. 

Somehow Sam had talked Steve into hosting a dinner party to celebrate the day Bucky got the all-clear. Stark had insisted on having his chefs provide the food and Natasha had glared Bucky into submission, so before Steve knew it everyone was sitting around his authentic 30’s dining set drinking wine and eating antipasto.

“I’m not usually big on ham, but  _ damn,  _ Tony. This shit is amazing.”

“It’s not  _ ham,  _ Clint, it’s  _ prosciutto. _ ” Tony looked more offended than he had the time his tower had been blown up.

“No swearing at the dinner table,” Tanika scolded.

“I’m still mad at Tony for robbing us of the opportunity to eat Barnes-Rogers home cooking,” Sam grumbled into his pane.

“You’ll have plenty of chances for that, my good man. My chef, on the other hand, is about to go on maternity leave, so enjoy this while you can.”

Natasha frowned, setting down her wine glass. “Tony, I’m not sure—”

“In  _ fact,  _ I’m planning on extorting cupcakes out of Captain Dad for my birthday this year.”

“Tony—”

Steve’s fork clinked against his plate. “We’re not staying, Tony.”

Tony finally seemed to notice the other side of the table. “What?”

“We’re leaving.” Steve felt Bucky take his hand, but he didn’t look away from Tony. “Nothing has changed.”

“Uh, yes it  _ has.  _ You’re  _ back _ now.”

Steve bit back a growl. “I’m not  _ back.  _ We’re grateful for your help with Bucky’s arm, but this reemergence was incredibly risky. Now that he’s healthy again we’re going back into hiding.”

Tony gaped. “You can’t just  _ disappear _ again! You’re Captain fucking America!”

“ _ Language, _ ” Tanika whispered. 

“I’m a father, and I’m just Steve now. I have other responsibilities—”

“Bullshit!” Tony stabbed his fork at him, growing furious. “You’re  _ abandoning  _ your responsibilities to live out this domestic fantasy—”

“I have  _ already died for my country,  _ Tony. But they still wanted more, so I gave it. When do I get to stop? When do I get to go home?”

“ _ This  _ is your home! With your friends, who you fucked over once already with your little disappearing act, I might add. We’re all tired, Cap, why do you get to run off with your robot boyfriend and leave the rest of us behind to clean up the world’s mess?”

“Tony, with the serum Bucky and I are going to live at least another  _ 120 years. _ ” Tony stopped, mouth half open around a retort. Sam’s jaw sagged in shock and something sorrowful passed through Natasha’s eyes. Bruce took a deep breath. “Maybe once my daughters are grown I’ll rejoin the fight,” Steve continued softly, looking over towards May’s high chair. “God knows I don’t want to outlive them.” 

Tony looked away, eyes still hot with anger, his throat working. Silence hung over the dinner table in a thick fog.

Tanika looked around at the tense adults failing to discipline her friend. “ _Iron_ _Man_ , that was _three swears,_ and you were _shouting._ No dessert!” All eyes turned to her in surprise, and then Steve surprised himself with a laugh. 

“No dessert! I only ever make you apologise!” Natasha snorted and shared a look with Clint.

Tanika shot him a look and glanced around the table before getting up on her knees in the seat and loudy whispering into Steve’s ear. “Yeah, but now we can split his dessert!”

“ _ Nik. _ ” Bucky stared at her in shock as everyone covered their laughter except Tony. “You’re sharing with Dad and not me?”

“You wouldn’t appuhreciate it,” she told him archly, and Bucky stuck his fingers into her ribs, making her shriek. 

Steve dodged a flailing elbow and glanced at Tony. He was watching them with an unreadable look, but before Steve could speak Natasha caught his eye and shook her head.

Bucky’s stoic tickle siege was interrupted by the main course, a silky risotto made with real marrow. The conversation turned immediately to weird foods people had eaten and Steve opened his mouth to mention Bucky’s disgusting banana/pickle breakfast sandwich when Tanika dropped her spoon and grabbed his sleeve. 

“Yeah, Nik?”

“I feel sick,” she said, pressing her hand to her breastbone.

“In your stomach?” Steve asked, turning to look into her pale face. 

“Yeah, and” she sucked in a whistling breath, “my heart,” wheeze, “is beating.” 

Before she’d finished her first breath Bucky was up and sprinting across the room, knocking over his chair in his haste. Steve scooped Tanika into his lap to comfort her, trying to keep them both calm as Natasha rang 911 and Sam calmed a panicking Clint and Tony. Welts were already beginning to show above her collar and she choked on her next inhale, her face turning dark. 

Within seconds Bucky was back, an EpiPen clutched in his hand. Tanika barely flinched as he depressed the device against her thigh, too busy gasping for air, her hands scrabbling at Steve’s arms. 

Bucky held the pen down for the full three seconds, and the effect was immediate. Steve could  _ hear  _ the air rush down her opening throat, her thready pulse strengthening even as the epinephrine sped it up. 

After a few deep, fortifying breaths Tanika burst into tears. 

“You’re okay baby, you’re fine, you had your medicine and now everything’s okay again, don’t be afraid,” Steve murmured to her, glad she couldn’t see his face. Bucky was still on his knees beside their chair, now clutching her hand to his chest as he stroked her face soothingly. 

“The ambulance is on its way, but you’re out of the woods now, kiddo,” Natasha assured Tanika, although Steve suspected it was more for her parents’ benefit. 

“The chance of a biphasic reaction is really small, but the doctor might want her on an antihistamine or a steroid just in case.” Bruce told them, his eyes closed against the chaos. 

“I told the kitchen, they all knew about her shellfish thing, I  _ told  _ them—” Tony babbled, staring at the crying girl in horror. 

“It’s okay Tony, accidents happen,” Steve said distractedly. “Bucky, go grab—stuff, whatever stuff, the baby.”

Bucky nodded and rose, kissing Tanika on the forehead and Steve on the mouth.  

“Bucky can’t go in the ambulance with the baby, but they’ll probably only let one of you in anyway,” Sam was saying, scooping May out of her chair and propping her on his hip. 

“I’ll follow in a car,” Bucky said, coming out of the nursery with a bag of things. He tossed Steve Mr. Bigteeth and Tanika immediately clutched the shark to her chest, finally calming down somewhat. 

It may not have been the usual type of emergency but the team was as efficient as ever, and minutes later Steve stood on the curb watching the ambulance arrive, Tanika in his arms wrapped in a blanket, Sam and Bucky having already left to commandeer one of Tony’s more sensible cars. 

“Hi guys!” Said the first paramedic, a young Latino guy with a big smile. “Ready to—” Steve saw the moment he recognised him, the context of the Tower out matching the beard and hair. To his credit he only paused for a moment. “Ready to get on the wheely bed?” He finished, indicating his partner—a great contender for Bruce Willis Impersonator of the Year—who was getting the gurney down. 

Tannika gave him a wavering smile back and nodded bravely. They strapped her into the gurney, the young man chatting happily and pulling Tanika out of her stressed fog. The older man didn’t speak a word, but he dropped to his knees on the hard asphalt the save Mr. Bigteeth when Tanika dropped him, passing him back into her arms gravely. 

“I’m just giving her oxygen to be safe,” the young paramedic told Steve once they were in the back, strapping the mask over Tanika’s face. “She sounds good though, no more whistli—” A loud  _ BANG _ on the roof of the vehicle interrupted the man and Steve braced himself as the ambulance swerved. 

Tanika squeaked but before Steve could act the back door of the ambulance was torn off and the young man went flying out into the night. A man in black assault gear swung into the truck. He pointed his gun at Steve but the bed between them caught the muzzle as he swung it up, buying Steve an extra second. His hand closed around a box of dressings and he threw it in the man’s face. Unable to suppress a flinch the goon raised a hand to deflect and Steve ripped the spare oxygen tank from is holster and cracked him over the head. 

There was no time to relax. No sooner had the man collapsed when there was a shout from the cab and suddenly the breaks were slamming on. Steve caught himself before he could tumble out the back, Tanika screaming as she was thrown against her restraints. The moment they rocked to a halt several black SUVs screeched up behind them, armed men swarming out.

“Get down!” One shouted in a thick accent, their semi-automatics trained on him and Tanika. Steve cast about wildly but the tank had rolled out when they’d breaked. Deciding his only option was to trust they wouldn’t shoot Tanika Steve jumped into the fray.  

Within a few seconds Steve had already taken several bullets. He managed to rip a gun out of someone’s hand and mowed down a handful of his attackers, but there were always more, surging in. A scream from behind him made him spin, revealing a small team of goons dragging Tanika’s unlocked gurney from the truck. 

Throwing himself against the tide of black Steve managed to reach her, wrapping a hand around the bedframe and pulling it towards him along with several adults who wouldn’t let go. Someone went for her straps and Steve cracked a fist across their face, knocking their goggles off. He fisted his own hand in her retrains and tore them away, catching her shoulder as someone yanked at her ankles. 

Somehow he wrestled her into his arms but there were hands grabbing at him, grabbing at her, and nowhere to go. 

Suddenly there was a blinding light and a deafening clatter as the majority of the goons were mowed down from above, the black helicopter’s spotlight lighting up the carnage.

Steve heard shouting and gunfire and realises half the black-clad agents were in different gear. For a split second he was flooded with relief—when the nearest one crashed into him, arms trying to come around his daughter to wrench her away. Steve twisted away but suddenly he felt the cold muzzle of a gun at his temple. He kicked out and felled the man but there were more, the range close enough to make a shot without hurting Tanika. There was a cold, frozen moment when Steve thought his time was up, and then someone knocked off Tanika’s mask. She turned her head and screamed. 

_ “WHO ARE YOU?” _

The man nearest to her stiffened like he’d been electrocuted and said “Agent George Cagney, FB—” His head exploded, spattering Tanika’s face with hot blood. 

“W- _ why did you do that? _ ” She shrieked, and Steve didn’t think she had even meant to Ask. 

“We were ordered to eliminate leaks with extreme prejudice,” Cagney’s fellow agent reported before he could even lower his gun. 

An explosion to the left drew Steve’s attention. Bucky stood at the end of the Street, sheltering from the grenade behind a car. He’d stolen a gun and was thinning the crowd, trying to make his way towards them. He glanced over and met Steve’s eyes, face a mask of fear. Before Steve could move, however, he felt the paralysing bite of a taser. His muscles locking as he dropped to the ground Steve felt Tanika get pulled out of his arms.

“ _ Daddy!” _

Bucky screamed Tanika’s name.

“Pаpa! Papa help!” She cried, jamming her hand so hard into her captor’s eye socket blood ran down her to wrist. He swore and dropped her but someone else swooped in. Steve was tasered again. Tanika kicked him in the groin but he blocked, getting a hold of her arm. She went loose, not allowing him to pick her up, and sunk her teeth into his hand. The agent screamed and Steve heard the bones break even through the sound of his teeth grinding together. 

Bucky was still fighting his way towards them, but far too far away. Someone took Tanika around the waist and hauled her up, but she’d been trained for this. Using the exact move she used to get out of nap time she slithered to the ground and even got an elbow into her captor’s crotch on the way down. In the confusion she made a break for it, sprinting towards Bucky. 

The street was complete chaos, HYDRA and FBI and people in civilian clothing holding submachine guns killing each other in a mad dance. Tanika doged and weaved through the bloodbath, somehow avoiding catching a stray bullet. Bucky became a gory blur, tearing his way through the combatants toward his daughter. When she reached him Tanika threw herself into his arms, clinging to his neck as he used his left arm to shield her as they hunkered down behind a totalled Subaru. Steve struggled to his feet, dragging himself through the battle towards his family, the blood loss from his bullet wounds finally catching up to him. Someone came at him and he took them out, but after he stumbled to one knee in exhaustion. 

A small team descended on Bucky as Steve watched. One man pressed a button on a small device and Bucky’s arm went limp, the other tightening around Tanika as he made to run. Someone cut his legs out with gunfire and he fell, Tanika hitting the ground hard. An agent grabbed her shoulders but Bucky rolled on top of her, clutching her with all his strength. Steve put on a burst of speed but he wasn’t going to make it. The barrel of a gun was pressed to the base of his husband’s skull and his daughter screamed—

And, far behind him, his daughter Screamed. 

The sound filled his head, driving him to his knees. His vision went white and for a moment he couldn’t feel his body. He screamed, clutching his ears, but it was silent. And then, just as swiftly as it began, it was over. 

Swaying but somehow still conscious Steve raise his head, blinking funny lights out of his vision. He couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears, but a swift glance around revealed every single combatant lying prone, completely unconscious. 

A short distance away Bucky pushed himself up on shaking arms. Tanika was lying motionless under him, and the sight hit Steve in the gut. Somehow managing to stand he stumbled over, collapsing against the car. He saw Bucky’s lips move, but shook his head; he still couldn’t hear. Fumbling for her pulse Steve found it beating steadily in Tanika’s neck, her breath hot against his wrist. Hands shaking Steve scooped her up, accepting Bucky’s help getting to his feet. For a moment they just leaned against one another, their unconscious child cradled between them, but then they had to move. Together they stumbled towards Tony’s car, Bucky tugging him along wordlessly even as Steve’s hearing started to come back. Eventually they found it, parked in on all sides by black cars, the bulletproof glass shattered on the ground. In the back seat Sam lay curled around the sobbing toddler, blood trickling from both his ears. Feeling a little of his strength return Steve carefully deposited Tanika on Bucky’s back, tearing the ruined door off the car and dragging their friend out. Getting him across his shoulders Steve hooked his arm through Sam’s leg and held his wrist in the same hand, leaving one arm free to carry May. 

Together their battered little group started off in the direction of Avengers Tower, fumes and determination getting one foot in front of the other. 

A moment later Steve heard the hum of Iron Man’s engines and thought the sound might be sweeter than even his children’s laughter. Within seconds the team was there, Sam’s weight disappearing from his shoulders, his persistent fear finally seeping away, and Steve fainted.

* * *

Steve shuddered behind the curtain as hundreds of questions were shouted at Tony.

“Mr. Stark! How long have you known the whereabouts of Captain America?”

“Can you comment on the rumours Agent Cagney was a Russian plant?”

“Who are the children? How does the mysterious other man fit into this?”

“Y’okay, Dad?” Tanika asked, eyeing him shrewdly. She was dressed in a beautiful emerald dress, with gold glitter dusted on her nose and cheeks. 

“ _ I’ve  _ done this before. Are  _ you _ okay?” Steve asked for the millionth time, avoiding her question entirely. She rolled her eyes and didn’t bother to answer.

Bucky snorted. He was standing behind Steve in a charcoal suit, May on his hip in navy blue tulle.

“Just let her do all the talking,” he suggested. “She’s much smarter than you.”

Steve huffed a laugh and took a moment to lean against Bucky, soaking him in. 

“Okay, Captain Rogers, they’re about to queue you,” Pepper’s assistant informed him cheerfully.

“Thanks, Adam. You ready Tanika?”

“I was  _ born  _ ready.” Steve suspected that was very likely true.   

Steve took Tanika’s hand and led her out through the curtains into the flashing cacophony of the press conference, Bucky and the baby on his six. They settled into a row of chairs, Tony ceding them the floor and disappearing off stage.

“I’m sure you all have a lot of questions,” Steve began. “I’m hoping my statement will get a few out of the way before we begin.  

“This man is Sergeant James Barnes; my best friend Bucky from a hundred years ago.” More questions were shouted but the reporters quieted down when Steve spoke over them, not willing to miss a thing. “During some time as a POW he was given a version of the supersolider serum that was tested on me, which allowed him to survive the fall from the train we thought had killed him. He was subsequently captured by HYDRA and experimented on, tortured and brainwashed for decades. They even managed to erase his memories.” Steve paused for effect. A flair for dramatic timing was something being a superhero and being a parent had in common. “That was how he became the Winter Soldier.” Steve held his hand up for silence as the room exploded. “After the events in DC he began to come back to himself,” he called over the din, “but I didn’t see him for some time. I knew he’d been helping us eliminate the HYDRA threat, but he never made contact. 

“That is, until the day he showed up on my doorstep with these two beautiful young ladies.” The room was hanging on Steve’s every word. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bucky roll his. “He’d found them in a HYDRA camp, being experimented on. Tanika was kept on a drug regime to keep her compliant, living underground in a small cell. Both of the children’s families had been killed. Bucky rescued them and brought them to me, in the hopes that together we could keep them safe. Unfortunately, it wasn’t only HYDRA who was after them. Several foreign governments and even an underground sect of our own were just as interested in locking them up.

“You see,” Steve began, praying he was making the right decision, “both these girls have powers. Tanika can compel a person to answer a question truthfully, and May, as we discovered last week, can scream loud enough to incapacitate anyone within a fifty foot radius.” Steve carefully let out his breath as the crowd digested this. He shared a look with Bucky. The night of the attack they’d decided the best way to keep their daughters safe was to go public; make it easy for the government to disavow anyone who wanted to kidnap the girls and instead let them play the role of protector in the public eye. Let the world fall in love with their family so they could be asfe, not because no eyes were on them, but because all were. 

“Speaking of which—America, I’d like you to meet my family.”

“Hi America!” Tanika’s beam was going to be on the cover of every magazine that week. “My name’s Tanika and I’m six years old. These are my dads Steve and Bucky, and this is my sister May.” Pepper had offered to get her some coaching for her time in front of the cameras and Bucky had laughed in her face. “D’you guys have any questions?”

“Yes! Miss Tanika, can you tell us more about your powers?”

“Yeah, um, when I Ask someone a question in a certain way they have to answer no matter what, but they fall asleep afterwards for a while.”

“Captain Rogers! How do you know the Winter Soldier has really defected!”

“Considering he spent most of his time blowing up HYDRA’s bases and protecting us from their attacks I’d say it’s a safe bet,” Steve said sarcastically before sobering up. “He’s provided us with huge amounts of valuable intel and saved many American lives in the process.”

“Sergeant Barnes! Is it true you had your memories erased? How did they do that, exactly?”

“Well,” Bucky drawled into the microphone, his sardonic attitude somewhat marred by the baby chewing on his hair, “it turns out having your brain electrocuted over and over again can cause some brain damage. Fortunately the serum allowed me to heal enough of it to remain functional, but very few of my memories survived the process.”

“So you don’t remember anything?”

“Not much.”

“Sergeant Barnes! Then why did you contact Captain Rogers?”

“I think him dropping his shield and refusingto fight me was a clue I could trust him. But it helped that my emotional memories remained mostly intact—even if I didn’t remember him, I still  _ knew  _ him.”

“Captain Rogers! Miss Tanika called you ‘her dads’; what is your relationship with Sergeant Barnes?”

Steve suppressed a smirk and held up his left hand. “We’re married.”

_ “Duh,”  _ Tanika added. 

The room became so loud May screwed up her face in tears.

“How long have you known you are gay?”

“Were you together before you were frozen?”

“How would you describe your sexuality?”

“Did SHIELD know you were in a relationship before the war?”

“ _ Shhhhh! _ ” Tanika said, far too close to the microphone. “ _ One  _ at a  _ time! _ ”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the buffudled quiet that followed. “Thanks Nik. Um, I’m actually bisexual. Bucky and I had a very intimate friendship before the war, but no, we weren’t together back then.”

“Where have you been, Cap?”

“Vancouver,” Tanika informed them distractedly, frowning at her grizzling sister. Steve fielded the more specific questions as she wriggled out of her chair to take May out of Bucky’s arms. He was halfway through a statement when he realised no one was listening—all the attention on Tanika settling back in her seat and bouncing May to settle her. 

“Captain Rogers, are you going to pick up the shield again now that you’ve returned to public life?” Someone ventured.

“No, I won’t be donning the cowl again. When I gave the shield to Falcon, I meant it. I might help the Avengers out from time to time if they really need it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he’ll see what he can fit in between dinner and bathtime.”

“I’d have more time for Avenging if you cooked more than once a week,” Steve couldn’t resist teasing him. Tanika rolled her eyes hard enough to see her brain. “Just because you’re the only one who can get Tanika to nap—”

“It’s not my fault I’m the favourite parent,” Bucky replied calmly, settling back into his chair. 

“Oh, you are, are you? May, who’s your favourite?”

May just drooled at him. 

“May,” Tanika prompted. “Pаpa or Daddy?”   

“Bababa!” She replied, staring adoringly up at her sister. Laughter rippled through the crowd. 

“Damn it,” Steve said. Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, like he’d known all along what she’d say. Steve glared at him and turned back to May. “Traitor. No yoghurt for you tonight.” May shrieked in delight at the attention and someone booed jokingly. 

Bucky shot him a smug look and Steve smiled.  _ Got em. _

* * *

Steve knocked on the Fujikawa’s open door, smiling at the sound of May screaming in delight at something. 

“Excuse me!” He called inside. “I ordered a birthday girl to go?”

“Comiiiiiiiing!” Tanika shouted, sprinting out of the house to jump into his arms. Winnie followed her out with May on her hip. 

“It’s your lucky day!” She exclaimed. “We’re having a buy-one-get-one-free sale!” She hooked May under the armpits and held her out, swinging her back and forth. May cackled and pumped her feet.

“Is it ready?!” Tanika bounced in excitement. 

“Is what ready?” Steve asked, setting her down to take May, Winnie winking and disappearing back inside. 

“The  _ party _ ,” Tanika moaned in exasperation, collapsing against him under the weight of his stupidity.

“There!” May cried, pointing at their house. “There!”

“That’s where we’re  _ going,  _ Mayday.” Tanika couldn’t catch a break even on her birthday. Steve took her hand so she wouldn’t race ahead and led them inside. 

“Happy birthday, Nikki!” Everyone chorused as they entered the living room, their dog bounding up to them in euphoria. 

“Happy birthday!” Winnie called a moment too late from behind them, following them in with her own baby in her arms. 

Steve’s house was full to bursting. The Neighbors were there, as were all the Avengers and their significant others. Tanika’s handful of friends her own age were hanging around the edges, on a spectrum between hero-worship and terror. They had pushed all the furniture against the walls to make room for a long table, and everyone had brought something to eat. 

“Go sit at the head of the table, Niks.” Bucky said, handing her a party hat headband. “And you, give me that.” He took May out of Steve’s arms and kissed him on the cheek. “Get everyone to sit down, will you?”  

“What? Why me?” Steve demanded, staring around at the mass of people in his house in despair. 

“You’re a natural born leader,” he mocked, leaving to strap May into her high chair.

“Don’t worry man, I got this.” Sam said from beside him, patting Steve on the bicep. All the Avengers had come in their suits to Tanika’s extreme delight, and it was surreal to watch Captain America climb on a chair and shout “Avengers and Associates! Assemble! At the the Table!” Tanika laughed so hard Steve was afraid she would be sick. 

It was effective, though. Within moments everyone had squished into the table, even baby George in a sling on Nao’s chest. 

Food was never safe around superheroes and nobody waited on ceremony, passing dishes of Tanika’s favourites between them and shouting conversation down the length of the table. 

“Could you pass me the quinoa, Jacob?” Steve asked. 

“Who the hell taught Captain America about quinoa?” Clint complained. “It’s totally ruined my perception of you. It’s like seeing your dad cry.”

“Don’t listen to him, son. Quinoa is delicious and healthy.”

“I thought all you ate back in the 40’s was like… shredded wheat and sadness.”

“No, sadness was rationed,” Bucky told him. 

“Should have defected to Russia,” Natasha suggested from behind a calzone the size of her head.

“I  _ did. _ ”

“Okay everyone!” Tanika called, tapping her water glass with her fork and leaving behind a smear of ketchup. “It’s time to sing Happy Birthday!”

“Niks, you do that  _ after  _ the meal,” Steve scolded though his laughter. 

“Why?”

“So at the end you can blow out the candles on your cake.”

“I don’t need a song to do that!” She eyed Steve shrewdly, like she thought he was lying. “No, that’s stupid,” she decided. “We’ll do it now.”

“You heard the lady,” Sam said. Everyone sang, their forks halfway to their mouths, Tanika glowing like commanding a sea of her peers was all she’d ever wanted out of life. 

She hadn’t timed it too badly. The meal ended only a short while after the song. Bucky, who no one had noticed leaving, returned to the room with a lit cake. 

“Choc!” May yelled. 

“It’s  _ lemon _ ,” Tanika insisted; she had been very clear in her birthday cake instructions.

“Okay baby girl, make a wish.” 

Tanika thought long and hard before puffing up her cheeks and blowing out the seven candles. Everyone clapped and cheered and she beamed.

“Okay, presents time!” Winnie sang, holding out a gift. Tanika ripped into it ravenously and happily ‘ohhhhhhed’ at the Percy Jackson box set. Jacob got her an extremely realistic looking Vancouver Police badge with her name on it, to her utter delight, and Zofia brought a shoebox full of hundreds of clothes for her action figures, as well as a larger doll that looked just like Tanika. Steve gaped at the hand-stitching and saw Bucky raise his eyebrows at her. She sniffed and gave them a look that said  _ call me an old lady and you’ll lose your balls. _

Sam passed her a card with an apologetic smile. “It’s more of an experience than a thing,” he explained. A folded piece of paper fell out and Steve tried to catch a glimpse as Tanika’s mouth fell open. 

“It’s a harness,” Sam told him. “Tony designed it for rescue missions. The card says I’ll ta—”

“Daddy! He’s going to take me  _ flying! _ ” 

“Oh,” Steve blinked, wondering if this was the sort of thing parents vetoed. 

“Better you than me,” Bucky told her around a mouthful of cake with ketchup. 

Natasha bought her a grappling hook, which Steve was secretly jealous of. Clint had shoddily wrapped a full replica of his costume in Tanika’s size and a suction cup bow and arrow, even including a pair of decorative hearing aids. Tony had invented a new technology in order to gift Tanika a pair of glittering purple hoverboots.

“Holy  _ shit,  _ Tony.”

“Someone always has to be around when you use those, sweetheart,” Bucky told Tanika. 

“You think I’d miss seeing our daughter fly, Buck? I can’t  _ wait. _ ”

There were more presents from the rest of the Avengers and Tanika’s friends, and then May demanded a bottle—“How could she want a bottle over cake? She must be your daughter, Bucky, not mine.”—and Tanika went outside to play with her presents and her superpowered babysitters.

The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon by the time people started trickling out. When the last of them were gone Steve collapsed onto the couch beside his husband, closing his eyes. He felt the warm  _ whump _ of Fluffy lying on his feet. 

“Do you think she liked it?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Rogers.” Bucky’s head slid down onto his shoulder. 

“I can’t believe she’s seven.” Steve’s body was growing heavy.

“Yeah.” Bucky yawned.

“I’ve got to load the dishwasher…”

“Mhm.”

“And… find Nikki’s other shoe…”

“Just chop her foot off.”

“I love you,” Steve mumbled into his hair. 

“Love you.” 

The house creaked. In the next room Tanika tested out a Greek word she hadn’t seen before, and May blew a bubble in her sleep. 

Steve was home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. That's it. Feels weird ending, I have all these little facts and mini scenes that didn't make it in that are just living in my head now. Maybe I'll make a companion post on my tumblr with extras from this AU. Ask me questions, I'm always excited to flesh out extra details! Comments are my lifesblood and life is currently A Real Poop at the moment so if y'all wanted to maybe tell me something you liked about the fic it would make me happier than you could know. And once again please let me know any americanisms i've messed up or accidental aussie things in there ( ~~do y'all say 'stack the dishwasher'? there's no other way of saying it, is there??~~ ). 
> 
> Thank you all so so so much for reading, and have a really awesome -arbitrary section of time-! I love you! <3 <3 :)
> 
> EDIT: How did I not guess 'load'??? It makes perfect sense!


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